#it was bizarre seeing the dad at first because once I finally realized he was the kid from facts of life

[xxsabitoxx]

Keeping Secrets (Giyu Imagine)

A/N: I feel like I've seen a few imagines/headcanons where Giyu has a wife and baby and keeps it a secret from the other Hashira. Not intentionally, but like Giyu being Giyu sees no need to tell them about it cause these meetings are strictly business. This whole scenario was super cute to me so I've been drafting a full-on HC post for a while now with all the hashira. However, my main writing focus has been on Roommates so I haven't gotten a chance to work on it. Before I absolutely lose my mind...

You and Giyu met shortly after surviving the Final Selection. He's extremely heartbroken during this time in his life because he is trying to cope with the death of Sabito. You meet him one day during a mission and go out of your way to talk to him. You've always been good with reading people and their emotions so you can practically feel the weight of his grief just by being in his presence.

Giyu is reluctant, letting you talk to him a bit but not really saying much in return. It takes time, but slowly Giyu warms up to you and one night after finishing a mission Giyu opens up to you. Your seemingly one-sided friendship quickly blossoms into mutual feelings. Giyu hesitantly welcomes you into your heart, trying to ignore the fears of losing you the way he lost his loved ones.

Fast forward to the time when Giyu becomes a Hashira. This is a transitional period of his life, so many things are changing at once and the weight of getting older brings along new titles and new responsibilities. You two are stuck together like glue, regardless of your different titles, Kagaya sees the potential and continues to let you partner up with Giyu during missions. It's during this time that Giyu starts to realize he cares about you more than a friend. He's never really experienced these kinds of emotions before so he's not entirely sure how he is supposed to go about it.

Lucky for him, you're still good at reading emotions. It doesn't take long for you to catch on and take the initiative. Thanks to your openness and determination, within a few months of his Hashira promotion, Giyu begins to court you. It takes another year of proper dating, but Giyu ends up asking you for your hand in marriage shortly after your 18th birthday. You, of course, accept.

The two of you marry a few months later. A small ceremony with Kagaya, Amane, and their children. Urokodaki is there and a few important people from your life are there as well. It's quiet and private and no other corps members catch wind of the fact that the rather 'infamous' water pillar has taken a bride.

Within a few months of your marriage, you and Giyu stumble across the Kamado siblings. After a bizarre battle with both siblings knocked out, you and Giyu discuss ways to keep them safe, coming to the mutual agreement that Urokodaki would be able to help. It is a few months later that you end up getting pregnant, right before your promotion to Hashira. This causes you to cease corps activity almost immediately. You even like to joke that Giyu planned this, he had been hinting at you retiring from the corps since you got engaged.

You end up giving birth shortly after Giyu's twentieth birthday and a year later you're itching to get back to your duties. You have a beautiful baby, one who is still getting the hang of walking and learning to say more than just a babble of "dada". A baby that is the exact replica of their father, the only thing they got from you is your eye color. I mean really, you carried them for 9 months and they have the audacity to come out looking like their dad.

Much to Giyu's dislike, Kagaya awards you with the title of Hashira within a few weeks of your return. You had practically jumped back into training within two months of birthing your child, nearly giving Giyu a heart attack day in and day out. Now comes the day of your first Hashira meeting. To make things a little less obvious, Giyu left for the meeting before you. He had taken only a few months off to help you after your baby was born, but the other hashira had been told he was sent away for a mission that would take quite some time. Kagaya was willing to help keep your marriage and family a secret until you both felt ready to share.

You're getting antsy, the kakushi that you had requested to watch your child while you both attended the meeting was running late. So late that if you didn't leave right then, you'd arrive at the meeting after it started. The last thing you wanted was to make a bad impression on the other hashira. So, one hasty note later, you were hauling your baby into your arms and heading out for the meeting. You weren't quite sure how you would go about explaining this, never mind to the other hashira, but to your husband. "Dada is going to faint." You spoke to your baby, a bit of your nerves settling as they looked up at you with a gummy grin. Only a few teeth were beginning to poke up from their gums... which had been giving you and Giyu one hell of a time. Teething was certainly not your friend.

By the time you made it to the Butterfly Estate, you were settling your baby on your hip and trying to focus on your breathing. "You'll be good for Mama right?" You whispered to them, smiling as they just giggled in response. You adjusted your posture, taking one last deep breath before entering the gardens. You heard them before you saw them, the intimidating aura of the Hashira was certainly no joke.

Giyu's eyes landed on you first, his expression turning to one of mild shock when he realized your baby was in your arms. For a moment he was convinced you had lost your mind, but he couldn't dwell on that for long. "My, are you lost perhaps?" Shinobu walked past him, the chatter around him had quickly died. "No, that can't be the case, you're in a corps uniform." The last bit seemed to be more to herself than to you. "I-no I'm here for the meeting with Oyakata-sama. I'm the new pillar y/n." You nearly said your last name, which was Tomioka. Granted the baby in your arms looked just like him, you figured it wouldn't take long until they pieced things together.

"You're the new pillar and you have a child?" You glanced upwards, the serpent hashira was staring down at you from a tree branch, eyes narrowed. All eyes were on you and your baby, you had glanced at Giyu only once so far. "That would be correct. The kakushi who has been kind enough to aid me and my husband with our baby was running late and I didn't want to arrive after the meeting started." You glanced at everyone else, noticing that all but one pillar was looking at you. Shinobu was standing in front of you, her eyes trained on your baby rather than you. "Say..." her brows were furrowed as if trying to understand why the child in your arms looked so familiar.

"Yes?" you had a funny feeling she had already figured everything out. But, before she could speak, a bubbly pink-haired woman was bounding towards you. "OH! THEY ARE SO CUTE! IT'S SO NICE TO MEET YOU!" She smiled brightly at you, squealing as your baby began to smile and giggle at her. Mitsuri Kanroji had saved your ass for the time being. "Oi..." This time it was a male voice, one that effectively quieted the space. You recognized him as Sanemi, the wind pillar. "That kid looks exactly like Tomioka's lame ass." Your eyes nearly bulged out of their head, though you knew it was coming, you just hadn't expected it to be from him.

You swallowed, watching as the other pillars looked between you, your baby, and then over at Giyu. You shifted nervously, waiting for the dam to break and the realization to come out. “Say, Shinazugawa isn’t wrong…” one of the taller men spoke, if you remembered correctly, his name was Tengen. Giyu talked about him from time to time cause the man was a shinobi with three wives. “Do you have something to confess Tomioka?” Shinobu was looking right at you as she spoke, because of your nerves you actually responded. “I-I don’t know what you mean.” Her brows raised at that, which caused you to realize your fatal mistake, the nail in the coffin if you would. “Oh? I was referring to Tomioka Giyu… however it seems you’ve confirmed my suspicions… Tomioka y/n.”

Just thinkin lol

#kny #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer imagines #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer headcanons #hashira #demon slayer fluff #kimetsu no yaiba imagines

[kamenjoe]

Indulge me for a bit here as I ramble off into the void something insane.

SPOILERS FOR S4 OF THE VENTURE BROS.

Last time I was back home, maybe a week or two ago, I was watching The Venture Bros. with my mom. I've shown her parts of the show and she's enjoyed it so far. We were watching the end of season 1 and the beginning of season 2 when my dad came in. Now my dad is not the kind for crass humor so he was a little bit taken aback by all the prison jokes in the Monarch's plot. The next day we were driving to go for lunch and he asked me "What do you like about The Venture Bros.?"

I gave my usual answer, something along the lines of "Well it's one of the most intricately written shows out there, stuff that's mentioned once seasons ago can come back to play a major role in a new story at any time." We talked about how, unfortunately, the show was kind of dated. It was the early 2000's and unfortunately it's a little bit nasty, however I assured him that it has a good heart.

However, that question stuck with me. "What do you like about The Venture Bros.?" I've thought about it and I've narrowed it down to just one scene. It's from my favorite episode, S4E16, Operation: P.R.O.M.

Now you're probably like: "Operation: P.R.O.M., really Joe? That's like what only the most popular fan favorite episode ever!" And to that I'd have to say "Wow kind of rude for you to just butt in here, I can like whatever episode I want!"

I feel like this episode has the most payoffs of any of the VB finales (Obviously because it was supposed to be THE finale, but I digress.) You have Dean and Trianna finally breaking apart, you have Brock and Mol finally coming to some sort of emotional closure, you have Hunter finally in control of the O.S.I. , but there's one payoff that always sticks out to me.

https://youtu.be/AU__7KM08EY

24 finally leaving 21. It's a small moment in an episode filled to the brim with grade A moments, it can get kind of lost among the more exciting or hilarious bits, however, this scene is where The Venture Bros. made a genuine emotional connection with me.

For the entirety of Season 4 21 was haunted by 24's ghost. It was cool in the beginning for 21 because his best bud never had to leave. (Quick aside, but WAS 24's ghost actually paranormal? He says that he helped 21 trust his intuition, but in Pinstripes and Poltergeists he tells 21 what Monstroso's Associates had in their pockets. Even with intuition, I imagine it would be hard to tell exactly what they had.) 21 goes on a whole revenge campaign against anyone who could have killed 24, however 21 comes to realize that this isn't allowing him to move on. Whether 24's ghost is real or not, whether he was killed by these people, it isn't healthy to focus so much on someone who isn't there anymore. 24 can't do anything for 21 anymore, so 21 goes to put him to rest.

He buries 24's skull, joins up with S.P.H.I.N.X, meets Shore Leave, and goes to the prom where 24 tries to get his attention again.

What can I even really say about this scene? It's just perfect, the song choice, drunk Orpheus, Baba Oje being the main factor in 21's realization, it's all great.

"I love you, but it's over."

These words really stuck with me, words from a cartoon show spoken by a guy dressed up as a sphinx. I feel like that's the kind of key idea from the scene, and it's something important I think everyone can learn. Sometimes in life you'll come to a point where something or someone you care about is holding you back and you have to say that. "I love you, but it's over." This is what I connected to when I saw this scene for the first time. That's a real emotion dude! That's something I felt! In my heart! It's not just that we don't have 24 anymore, it's that 21 lost something that he loves, he lost his friend, and as sad as it is to see him go, it's the best thing that could possibly happen right now. 24's gone. Nothing can bring him back, not even a bizarre hallucination. It's time for him to rest.

"Gone but not forgotten, perhaps they'll reunite again!"

I love this show you guys.

#venture bros #henchman 21 #operarion p.r.o.m.

[inafieldofdaisies]

𝙼𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 | Season 2, Episodes 7 & 8 | Review post & Thoughts on season 3′s potential

I don't know how I feel about the finale of Made for Love, I genuinely liked the direction the season was going in and then the last 2 episodes happened. They left me with what I can only describe as an yucky feeling.  

The whole season gave off vibes about Byron getting some type of redemption. You have so many scenes showing he’s trying, that he does have feelings for Hazel, but needs to work on his issues and realize the error of his ways and how many messed up things he did.

They fed us so many cute scenes with him and Hazel, showed her having doubts about betraying him, she would make the first move and hint at having feelings for him. There was hope. False one, sadly.

I wasn't a fan of Byron’s character in season 1 at all, his actions were problematic, things started to shift with season 2. It managed to make me feel bad for him, especially after seeing him try to make an effort and showing a glimpse into his feelings. Billy’s acting is so amazing, he bought something to what can end up as super unlikable character, there was humor and rawness to Byron.

You have him face what seemed like a very unpleasant thing for him, something he kept hidden and avoided: going back to his childhood home, staying the night there because Hazel insisted, even after he wanted to flee. They finally talked, bonded even. 

I get Hazel has a hard time trusting him. Still I felt like the final two episodes just went off the rails and basically destroyed whatever was built so far...

For context: Byron ended up copying Hazel’s consciousness and uploading it together with his own.From there the Other Byron & Hazel went rogue, or shall I say Other Hazel came up with a plan to do some body snatching and took OB along for it. Byron ordered to have Hazel’s copy deleted, he was confident they’re making progress and didn’t want to ruin things. He got taken over by OB instead.

Other Hazel took over Hazel’s body and let her father unalive himself (note: it was Herb’s wish bcs he was sick), he was ready to leave Earth. Hazel was forced to watch it happen, unable to stop it.

Hazel then started to fight back, trying to gain control of her body again. Once she managed to do that, she decided to betray Byron by not letting him get his body back, instead leaving the passive and naive Other Byron in it while Byron is trapped within, forced to watch and is on the verge of disappearing. Hazel is pregnant with Byron’s baby and running HIS company. She treats Other Byron like sh!te too (telling him it’s none of his business when he asks about her day.)

I get Hazel is angry over her father and wants revenge, but I felt like full on blaming Byron for what happened to her dad and not even letting him explain the whole fiasco was a bit much, especially since it was Other Hazel that created the mess, she was the one wanting to take over. I saw him copying her consciousness as more of a plan B in case Hazel decides to leave and things between them don't work out, in a way he'd still have a version of her.

Not to mention her father made the decision to leave, it was his choice, he didn’t want to suffer anymore, he was confident Hazel is gonna be alright. It wasn’t like Other Hazel poisoned him. 

Like Hazel, I get it, but Other Hazel didn’t actually m-word him, okay? Herb wanted to leave, she didn’t trick him into DRINKING POISON! Byron didn’t do want your dad to die either.

Having your “good” main character suddenly become the villain in this way is weird. I get the show likes to make bizarre turns, but those two episodes took away all meaning from whatever progress Byron made. Instead of getting redemption of a problematic character, you get almost complete ruination of the heroine. The decision she made was so messed up, she had other choices, especially after claiming she wants to do good by taking over Byron’s company. Keeping her dad on ice, leaving a door open to bringing him back to life when *he wouldn’t want it*, is yet again messed up.

Getting revenge on Byron fueled by her father’s death was questionable, trapping him in his own body and forcing Other Byron (who was in love with Other Hazel who Hazel killed) to stay in their miserable marriage was even worse. A f-cked up marriage that would soon have a baby involved too. Not only did she punish Byron, but she’s actively punishing OB as well. 

As others have said: after 6 months of marriage the light from OB’s eyes is gone, the emotions are off. It’s like keeping a $ex robot as a husband at this point. 

The reveal Byron isn’t himself wasn’t a twist either, like from the second he’s on the screen you can tell it’s Other Byron, way before the eye twitch is shown as a hint. The romance lover in me is crying at the “dad” scene, ngl. It’s such a missed opportunity for an actual happy ending as series finale.

As an ending to the season Hazel could have:

1) Talked it out with Byron, gave him a chance to explain since she was so into testing him prior and showed she has some type of feelings for him if she had doubts about betraying him. Then decide if she trusts him, etc.

2) Let the agency handle Byron and his company... take him down as she initially wanted. 

3) Leave the marriage, start a new life without Byron, raise their child in a good environment. 

An alternate thing I expected to happen: Byron & Hazel team up to get back their bodies and take down their Other versions. They talk sh!te out eventually.

From reading interviews on what we can expect if the show gets renewed, I don’t have much hope for s3. I still hope the writers rethink things and that s3 would get back on track, focusing on what was left unexplored in this one. Making Hazel into a villain is just dumb in the long run, especially after they fooled us into thinking Byron is getting a redemption which turned into him getting fecked over for something he didn’t even intend to happen. Are we to expect they’re eventually gonna be okay as a couple now that Hazel has gone “an eye for an eye” on him as a way to restore “balance”? And what about the poor baby? 

#made for love #cristin milioti #review #tv show review #tvshows #tv shows #my edits #my thoughts #mygifs #rant time #tv series #book adaptation #billy magnussen #tv show update #tv show thoughts #tvships #tvshowedit #currently watching #tv show gifs

[apple-pecan]

The NeverEnding Story (1984)

although i have not seen this movie in it's entirety until a few nights ago, i do have some history with this film that goes back to my childhood. we had the film on VHS, and while my siblings loved it and sang the theme song repeatedly, i never actually watched most of it because my neurodivergent ass could not sit down and watch an entire 90 minute movie.

flash forward 20 years, and i was cracking jokes to a friend about artax the horse sinking for some bizarre reason (i saw the nostalgia critic video featuring the artax scene), and then realized "huh, you know i haven't actually WATCHED this movie..." and here we are now, writing this awful review. this is considered a classic children's movie among 80's kids, and while i really liked parts of it, i was left feeling unfulfilled.

bastian is a grade school kid going through a shitty time. mom passed away, dad is distant, constantly bullied, the works. his only escape is through books, and he finds a book one day that is truly different from any other, one where he vividly feels the same emotions of the book's main character, atreyu. this is a cool premise and i was excited to see where it was going but when the movie (ironically) ends, i was just like "huh okay..." bastian doesn't really learn anything and a few of the plot threads introduced in the beginning don't really get resolved. i was looking forward to the scene where, maybe, he could reconnect with his father after they both went through a tragic event. after the scene where bastian and his dad briefly talk, his dad never shows up again for the rest of the movie!!! instead he just chases his bullies down the street on a flying dragon and the movie just ENDS!!!!! HUH????????

disappointing ending aside, this movie was pretty enjoyable up until that point. the fantasy world of... fantasia looks really believable and out there with some fun set designs and puppets for it's fantasy characters, namely the rockbiter and falkor. it's very... 80's, but idk i still think it's cool and charming. i also really liked it's music score a lot, with both it's synths and orchestral music; probably my favorite part of the movie. and let's face it that theme song IS super catchy.

apparently the reason the ending feels the way it does is because it only adapts the first half of the book it's based on, and it certainly feels that way considering the painfully unsubtle sequel hook at the very end. in fact, the author of the novel was so displeased with the script he was sent that he demanded they stop the film's production at once, or at least change the title of the movie. of course, they did neither so he tried to sue them. he lost. oops. either way, there are certainly sequels to this but most think they suck and what's worse, they barely take any cues from the rest of the book. oh well! it's a fun, cute movie with a cool meta message about not letting your childhood imagination die out, even if it runs out of steam during the last three minutes. either way im glad to have finally watched it all these years later.

3/5

NOTE: NEVERENDING STORYYYYYYYYYYYYY AHAHAH AHAHAH AHAHAH FUCK YOU THIS SONG IS NEVER LEAVING MY HEAD

#apple's media review #apple's media: film

[booasaur]

John Astin as Gomez Addams in The Addams Family 1x25 (1965) || Mackenzie Astin as Anderson Wesley in Teenage Bounty Hunters 1x03 (2020)

#tbhedit #teenagebountyhuntersedit #tafedit #teenage bounty hunters #teenage bounty hunters 1x03 #the addams family #the addams family 1x25 #gomez addams #anderson welsey #john astin #mackenzie astin #it was bizarre seeing the dad at first because once I finally realized he was the kid from facts of life #he was still reminding me of someone else and then I realized it was his dad! #noticing this parallel was cute :) #I wonder if it was deliberate

[glowingbadger]

Okay folks, get ready for a Modern Au Fluffy Megapost~

Firstly, Sylvain and Dimitri have gotten a fluff post already that you can see here if you like! I'll think about whether I have anything to add that would be relevant to a Modern AU for them, but their sections are gonna be shorter as a result.

Yuri, Felix, Ashe x GN Reader

Fluffy relationship headcanons - SFW

Yuri:

- At first, it's not really in Yuri's base nature to be soft and gentle towards a lover. "Delicate" in the cunning, teasing sense, perhaps- but vulnerable and kind? Less so. Which is why it's a bizarre feeling for him when he finds himself wanting to be softer to you- wanting to comfort you and hold you and protect you. He doesn't really know what to do with this new-found tenderness at first, but it will start to manifest in how he treats you despite himself. His tone is completely different with you, he smiles to himself whenever he checks his phone to see you've messaged him, he starts saving songs you mention to listen to later- he simply can't help it.

- He won't let on that he's got quite a lovely singing voice for some time (he intentionally doesn't audition for musicals)- but one night, as your head rests on his lap as he reviews a script for the next play on campus that he's performing in, he starts quietly humming to himself. He stops as soon as he realizes you've noticed, but you carefully say, "I'm... pretty sure I recognize that song- how does the rest go?" He indulges you, humming the rest, even peppering in some of the lyrics. But by the end, he smiles with a quirked eyebrow and pokes your cheek playfully, "Don't think you fooled me with that line earlier- you couldn't repeat a single note of that song, you were just goading me into singing it."

- After this though, he does treat you to a song or two whenever you're upset or not feeling well. He knows that, with all of the complex and duplicitous relationships he's left behind him, it's a relief to finally have something he can give you that he's never willingly given to a partner before. So when you're sick or stressed or dealing with a mental health issue, he'll stroke your hair and sing softly to you, the quiet smile you wear tugging sweetly at his heart.

Dimitri:

(most of my thoughts are in the link above)

- Dimitri loves doing boyfriend tasks for you, like carrying heavy things (really any things) for you, reaching the top shelf, opening jars (he has broken one or two), and so on. He's the type to make sure to hold the umbrella over you even if it means he gets rained on.

- He's a clumsy texter, and his messages to you are always full of type-o's and ridiculous auto-corrects. He also has every voicemail you've ever left him saved on his phone and will listen to them when he hasn't seen you for a while.

Sylvain:

(once again, he's in the link up there)

- He sends you stupid memes of animals with "this is us" typed below. Most of his signs of affection are dumb and cute but goofy like that, and getting him to actually level with you and express his genuine love and care for you can be pretty rare.

- Sylvain secretly likes romcoms, like, a lot. He tries to brush it off, saying, "Oh you know, I've just seen a lot of them on dates." but his encyclopedic knowledge of their plots and cast suggest otherwise. Once he fesses up to you though, he refuses to meet your gaze and mutters, "it's just.. nice sometimes to think that a relationship can actually be like that, y'know?"

Felix:

- He's so bad at being soft, but he wants to be for you, but also doesn't want to be because ew feelings. Which he has a lot of. This is why the main way he expresses his affection is through physical contact. It's mostly in private, where he can be super cuddly with you- but in public, he'll still find times to lightly brush his hand against yours, or an excuse to "fix" your hair, mumbling, "It's flying all over the place, hold still-" even though it's really not that out of place, he just wants a reason to touch you.

- Felix is a funny one to bring your problems to. He's actually a surprisingly good listener for someone he cares about, so he's happy to just hold onto your hand and listen to you vent about whatever's bothering you. If it's an interpersonal problem, he'll probably offer to confront or straight up fight whoever is giving you trouble, which might at least get you to laugh, even though he fully means it. But for a more serious problem, he'll quietly wipe away your tears and remind you, "Hey, listen- you just... keep living your life as you, okay? You can't be anyone else, and I don't want you to be."

- He secretly loves it when you play with his hair. While he's studying or gaming, he likes to lean back against the edge of his bed or a couch and have you sitting behind him brushing out his hair, or even braiding or pulling it up for him if you like. He finds your touch incredibly soothing, and there have even been times when he's spaced out a bit and completely forgotten what he was doing because he was just enjoying your nails along his scalp and your fingers through his hair. Honestly, it's a bit like scratching a cat's ears- he'll even subconsciously lean against you if he's not careful.

Ashe:

- 'soft' is Ashe's default state in a relationship, and it is just the cutest. He wears his affections openly on his sleeve, and if you're upset or unwell, his concern is completely obvious. When you're sick, he'll immediately start looking up your symptoms and any possible solutions, and he's always got extra pillows and blankets to lend you. He knows your favorite snacks and movies by heart, and always has them on hand for off-days.

- He loves cooking for you, and cooking with you, if you're into it. There's something so intimate and domestic about making and enjoying meals together, and he has an uncanny way of making the best of even a crappy little college dorm/apartment kitchenette. Though, you're going to have to set some strict boundaries with your friends about date nights, because if you let them, your friends and his will swarm to his cooking and mooch off of the fruits of your labor- and we all know Ashe is too nice to say no.

- Ashe absolutely wants to own a pet with you. Perhaps even before moving in together, he'll help you select a small, low maintenance pet, and he'll always be delighted to come visit it and help you take care of it. If you're living together, he definitely wants a cat or a small dog, and he's a total pet-dad about it. He'll give them cute little bandanas to wear, experiment with which brand of food they seem to like best and so on. He gets a bit shy if you tease him about his doting, but ultimately, he'll just kiss your cheek or forehead and say, "I just want to take care of you both as best I can, that's all."

#yuri leclerc #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #sylvain jose gautier #felix hugo fraldarius #ashe ubert #fire emblem #fire emblem x reader #x reader #fire emblem three houses #fe3h #feh #fire emblem headcanons #modern au

[onmyyan]

Hi its me again. I love your writing and the fact that there isn't as much abuse like there is in others. It reminds me of old yandere stories were it was genuine lovesickness. Anyway, how do you think jjba yanderes would react to a darling that is taller and more muscular than them by quite a bit. You can do whoever you like I don't mind.

A/N: Omg ily🥺 it means a lot you said all that because I really love this genre it’s my comfort trope anyway thank you for the request n I hope ya like it!! Kira should be a trigger warning in an of itself but dw he’s just weird, not mean. Mentions of his past ‘girlfriends’, a curse word or two, lil suggestive in someplace’s Mista murks a few people, tw//gun violence

Characters: Pt2 Joseph, Josuke, Kira, Mista

Joseph was used to looking down on people, standing at a proud 6’5” he was literally and figuratively knocked on his ass when he’d first laid eyes on you, his immediate thought was you were a forgotten pillarman coming from nowhere to get revenge for your masters only to quickly realize you were just a stallion. You were strong enough to put him on his back after one too many cheeky comments. Unafraid to speak your mind and keep him in check, You would stare down at him with that mind melting smirk, all too aware of his frustrations, you assumed he was just being a man, ashamed to be outclassed by someone other than himself, oh honey how wrong you were. You enjoyed teasing the behemoth of a man as no one else really could, at least not as well as you did, throughout your little jabs and snark he always had a retort, a response on the tip of his tongue, eager to do this dance of yours until one of you broke, to you he was a way too cocky dangerously self assured pretty boy who was entertainingly easy to rile up, but to Joseph, you were his everything. Someone he could proudly take home to Granny Erina once he’d finally tamed you. He had a plan, a three step plan to steal your heart just as you’d done his, and this little game of who could annoy the other the most was just step 1. “It’s been fun JoJo but you’re gonna have to find someone else to bother.” You’d jokingly said one day out of the blue, an odd friendship had formed through the month you’d been in town and it felt wrong to leave without notice, an act of kindness you’d learn to regret. “Is this one of your famous jokes (Y/n)? Not so funny to play with a mans heart like that I nearly believed you.” He finished with a scoff, his signature smirk not reaching his eyes. “It’s true Joseph, my flight leaves tomorrow, I didn’t wanna leave without saying goodbye, because as much as we fuck around you’re pretty fun to hang out with.” Your sincerity almost made him feel bad about rushing the next few steps of his plan, he’d have to cram months of planning into a night but he’d accomplished more with less time on his side. He huffed, his grin stretched wide across his handsome features. “Then we outta make tonight count eh?” A thick arm was tossed around your neck, you had to bend awkwardly for this to be possible much to your amusement. “Okay you weirdo, whatever you say.” You let him lead you around town with a grin, unaware you’d be missing that plane, and any other one you tried to take without him.

Josuke watched you eat with the dopiest grin on his face, he’d spent an extra hour in the mirror this morning in preparation for your first official date! Well you didn’t exactly know it it was a date and Okayasu was eating rather messily beside you two but still! You’d actually agreed to come to Toni’s with him! You’d been an enigma since you transferred to the bizarre town, choosing to keep to yourself, and despite the intimidating height and mass you possessed, he saw through your act in seconds. There was a huge softie under all that muscle, he’d watched you enough to know this as a fact, you were a gem and he was intent on showing you his appreciation and adoration for the rest of his days, a vow he’d silently taken the day you’d stolen his heart, the moment was brief in reality but it lasted forever in his mind, you smiled at him in passing, he could feel time slow down, everyone around you faded in the background, a backdrop to the beginning of your story. He could imagine telling your kids how you’d met, something about the way you’d stare down at him, eyes sharp and attentive, like you truly listened when people spoke, your laugh was loud when it was real and every time he heard it he felt 10 years added to his lifespan. At the same time that icky feeling at another person making you laugh was conflicting, he’d never been in love before but he suddenly understood why his mom had never given up on his dad, love was weird but he wouldn’t give it up for anything. You’d accidentally snapped your chopsticks laughing too hard at a joke he’d tossed out, your face scrunched in embarrassment before chuckling at yourself and switching to a fork, his stand came out on its own, pocketing the shards to fix later, a new item for his ever growing collection, what a cute little memento from your first date! His thoughts swirled happily with the stories you’d be telling your kids. Thankfully neither of you noticed his little pickpocket moment, dangerous plans forming as he stared at you with those misleadingly soft puppy dog eyes.

Kira could die in this moment, happily I might add, as your firm but soft hand was wrapped oh so deliciously around his throat threatening to crush it with ease at the slightest movement. He’d been watching you for a while now, the longest he’d ever spent on someone he didn’t plan to kill, it become sort of hobby he’d picked up recently, the morally upsetting activity bringing peace to his day to day, usually he used his stand to carefully observe your routine, eager to learn all he could about his future spouses likes and desires, but he was getting greedy. Of course he could always introduce himself but he resisted, knowing there was a time and place to get exactly what he wanted. He liked to think he knew everything about you by now, your favorite color, how you liked your coffee, your love for cats, but he didn’t anticipate this. You were much more observant than he’d given you credit for, while you couldn’t see his stand you could sense yourself being watched, and seeing the large blonde lurking indiscriminately in the crowds throughout the day was enough to set you off. So you trailed off into the less crowded parts of town quickly entering an alleyway, he followed in pure confusion only to be roughly slammed into the wall, his stand came out on reflex but simply stared at his attacker, it seemed almost confused as what to do. “Why the hell are you following me pretty boy?” His eyes rolled to the back of his head at the feel of your fingers tightening, god he’d never felt this rush of exhilaration, none of his past ‘girlfriends’ could pull such an illicit reaction from him with a simple touch. When he didn’t answer you simply scoffed and tossed him aside like it was nothing. You left with a threat to stay out of your sight, yet all he could do was smile, the faint imprint of your fingers burned in his skin deliciously, how lucky could one man get?

Mista observed you with hungry eyes. His stare was unapologetically locked on your form. He made no intention to hide his attraction for you. The day you’d joined Buccarati’s crew was the day his world flipped. He assumed his new teammate would be no one to fuck with based on what Bruno told him about your stand, but when you walked in? Needing to bend down slightly just to enter the doorway had him sweating in his seat. He didn’t know what to say as he watched you happily interact with his fellow teammates, immediately you blended with the group, but all that was running through his mind were all the fun things you could do with those muscles. He usually stayed silent around you, not out of dislike as one would assume from his piercing gaze, but fear of accidentally voicing one of those nasty thoughts kept him quiet. You didn’t seem to mind though, always including him in the conversation, you even understood his very valid fear of that dreaded number! How could god plop such a perfect person in his lap and expect him to not do anything about it? Alas, Bruno had specifically told them not to make you uncomfortable with any flirting so he bit his tongue. Your aura was calming, a contrast to your powerful stand, speaking of, he couldn’t get his under control. Whenever they could Sex Pistols was out and all over you. They climbed and clamored for your attention, thankfully you didn’t seem to mind, always entertained their antics when you could, even giving each one a small peck when they wouldn’t let you leave for a mission without Mista, to say he was done for was an understatement, it took one mission going foul for his resistance to snap. His stand moved faster than it ever had, piercing the skulls of the idiots who brought you pain. He left the last one slowly bleeding out kneeling down to wipe the matted hair from your forehead, “You okay baby? Don’t worry honey I’ll make the bastard hurt.” He spoke not breaking eye contact, his hand pointed behind him, grip steady as he unloaded in the poor fool who thought it was a good idea to make you bleed, the wound was small, not even deep enough to trouble Giorno but that didn’t matter to Guido, any slight against you was disrespecting the future parent of his children, and what kind of man would he be if he didn’t defend your honor?

#yandere jjba #yandere jojo's bizarre adventure #yandere jojo x reader #yandere Joseph #yandere josuke #yandere Kira yoshikage #kira yoshikage #josuke higashitaka #yandere x y/n #yandere imagine #yandere x reader #yandere mista #guido mista #yandere Joseph Jostar

[jengajives]

Part four Caranthir is a dick

Part one

Part two

Part three

Up close, Daeron noticed that the Fëanorian dinner table was smaller than he’d imagined; granted, he had been imagining a cartoon rich-person table with about fifty seats at it, and it was big, to be sure, just not as big. There were maybe fifteen chairs pulled up, each of them carved of twisting metal and dark wood to match the elegance of the dining table. A stream of red silk ran down the middle. No food was set out yet, and now that Daeron thought about it, he couldn’t imagine any of these people making their own meal. He’d seen Maglor attempt to cook before, and it had not gone well; judging by the established patterns of behavior, the rest of his family would be much worse. The help would probably bring the food out once it was all done.

What a bizarre thought to pass through his mind.

Five of the chairs were occupied, all at the nearest half of the table. Two redheads sat talking back and forth, apparently blind to their surroundings and dressed in almost identical, expensive-looking sweatshirts; a frowning man with deepset eyes and hair of the deepest auburn, so dark it was almost indistinguishable from black, dressed in a silken suit that gleamed violet in the sunlight (Curufin took Celebrimbor from Daeron and took a seat at his side, looking smug); a tired red-haired woman who sat with her arms folded, a drawn scowl on her face; and, of course, the one Daeron assumed to be Fëanor himself, comfortably seated at the head of the table and weighing Daeron with his silver gaze. The family resemblance hit Daeron hard. Fëanor’s face was almost identical to Curufin’s, but he had Celegorm’s sharp jaw and Maglor’s eyes. He also saw the compact build on the red-haired twins, and there was something in the brow that Fëanor shared with the man in the suit. A bit of every son present there, except for Maedhros, who seemed to take after his mother. Unlike his boys- indeed, unlike almost any Noldo Daeron had ever met- Fëanor wore his black hair cropped short and close to the skull, without braiding of any kind. He didn’t look like a particularly nice man.

“Maglor,” he said, and a smile crossed his face that did nothing to put Daeron at ease. “Glad you could make it.”

“Hey, Dad.”

“Hello, dewdrop.” The woman smiled, too, but Daeron liked the look of hers. He got the impression he was going to like Nerdanel. Her skin was brushed with dark freckles, and her nose was crooked, but she had a warmth to her where Fëanor had only intensity and heat.

Maglor put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently.

“Everyone, this is my boyfriend, Daeron. Daeron, this is my mom and dad, Caranthir, Amrod, and Amras.”

One of the redheads rolled his eyes. “Last again.”

“I was hoping you all wouldn’t mind speaking Sindarin tonight?” Maglor seemed to be staring at Caranthir as he spoke. “Switch it up a little.”

Nerdanel looked like she was about to say something when Caranthir interrupted.

Just hearing his voice, Daeron got a bad feeling about him. Too calculated and much too smooth.

“Why should all of us have to speak a lower language just to cater to him?” He glanced at Daeron and there was a dismissive flash in his inky grey eyes.

Maglor took a step forward before Daeron even had time to process how offensive that was, and put an arm protectively in front of him, apparently on instinct.

“That’s pretty rude,” he said. His voice was calm but the glare he gave his brother certainly was not. “We all speak Sindarin. It’s not a big deal.”

“Can your friend not speak Quenya?” Caranthir glared right back. “I thought the Dark Elves had finally picked that up, but maybe that’s an overestimation on my part.”

“Lay off, Caranthir, seriously-“

“I just don’t see why he can’t use our language if we’re his hosts.”

“My Quenya is fine,” Daeron butted in, though of course he knew his accent was all off. He understood it a lot better than he actually spoke it; he just didn’t want to cause a fight over this. Maglor was too staunch a defender. Daeron didn’t want him to feud with a brother over this.

“Fine might be too generous a word,” Caranthir said. He looked mad. Daeron couldn’t fathom what had possibly set him off.

“That’s too far,” chided Nerdanel; her use of Sindarin didn’t go amiss. Her son grumbled and flicked out his phone instead, and Maglor’s fists somewhat relaxed.

“We’re happy to have you, Daeron.” Fëanor had a very good voice, and his Sindarin was flawless. Daeron suddenly began to understand this man’s popularity; he might not look friendly, but he sounded like an ally. Simple as that. “We don’t get Grey Elves very often. And since your Quenya needs improvement, we are all happy to share your language. It’s no difficulty, is it, boys?”

No one answered him. The twins were whispering to each other, checked out, Curufin had a stupid, knowing grin on his face, and Caranthir was still pouting.

“Quenya needs improvement.” He should be grateful I even bothered learning this much. Stupid language.

“Thank you,” Maglor said shortly, glaring at his brothers.

He pulled out a chair and motioned for Daeron to take it, which he did, rather hesitantly. Caranthir was still staring at him, and it felt as if Fëanor was trying to pick him apart with his eyes. He shifted uncomfortably as Maglor sat down beside him.

“Food is almost ready- where’s Nelyo?” Fëanor looked at Maglor like he thought he was hiding Mae in his pocket somewhere. Mags only shrugged.

“Upstairs, I think.”

“Got another mysterious phone call, did he?” Curufin smiled smugly. “Any clue who his secret lover is yet, Mags?”

“I didn’t realize I was supposing to be investigating.”

“Course you are. You’re his favorite.”

“Mae is entitled to his privacy.”

“Sure, sure. You think it’s one of the Valar again?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Fëanor spoke firmly, putting an end to any speculation. “Nelyo knows better than to tangle with that lot.”

“One of them would be better than a Sindar,” Caranthir said. It was quiet, but not quiet enough; he’d meant for Daeron to hear it.

Maglor had really neglected to mention how much of a dick this one was.

“Did the Sindar do something to you?” Daeron asked as politely as he could manage, ignoring the way Maglor gripped his thigh in a clear signal not to engage. “If we did, I’m sorry, but there’s no need to generalize like that.”

Caranthir met his gaze, cool but undeniably angry. There was a slightly purple tint to his storm-colored eyes.

“Don’t like Dark Elves,” he said in a particularly chilling voice. “Bad for business.”

“That’s good, because I’m not a Dark Elf.”

If this smug little bastard wanted a fight, Daeron would give it to him.

“Babe…” Maglor said, tugging at his arm.

Caranthir looked like he was about to stand up and start laying into him, so Daeron braced to get to his feet, but the boiling tensions were somewhat lessened when Maedhros came into the dining room. Initially, it looked like he was out of breath from taking the stairs too fast, but his face was also a bit flushed, and a strand of hair that had been up a few minutes ago was loose and clung to a line of sweat on his forehead.

“Sorry. Am I the last one here? Didn’t mean to keep anyone waiting.”

“Celegorm is still outside,” Maglor offered. “Daeron and I can go get him.”

“No, don’t worry about it. I’m already up.” Mae flashed his tired smile and vanished again; Maglor looked very worried about it. He knew Daeron was close to chewing his brother out at the dinner table during his very first family visit, and that wouldn’t exactly be a good look, but before he could think of another excuse to relieve tensions, his mother did it for him.

“Caranthir, stop glaring and leave our guest alone. We’ve agreed to leave politics away from the dinner table, yes?”

“Like we ever do that,” he grumbled.

“Shape up. You’re a grown man and more than capable of putting on a courteous front for a few hours.” Nerdanel folded her arms, and Daeron was stricken by how muscular she was. The biceps strained against her sleeves- it was a miracle she even fit them in at all.

Caranthir looked like a scolded puppy, but still he whined, “But I-“

“No. You owe Daeron an apology.”

A long silence. Caranthir looked like he’d rather kill Daeron then apologize to him, but his mother kept him locked in a death stare, so eventually he caved in and grumbled, “Sorry.” It was not very convincing.

“It’s fine,” said Daeron in a clipped voice. It wasn’t fine, but he would rather Maglor’s family not hate him, so he could pretend. It seemed to put Mags more at ease, at the very least.

The skittering off claws on hardwood indicated the arrival of Huan and his master, and as Maedhros and Celegorm took seats on either side of their mother, Fëanor said something about eating, and the smell of something fragrant with herbs drifted in along with the small herd of cooks and servers. It smelled a bit too much like poultry for Daeron’s tastes. He got the feeling the Fëanorians would not approve of his not eating meat.

This whole thing was starting to feel like a really bad idea.

#jenga makes junk #fic #modern au #maglor #daeron #daemags #maglor x daeron #feanorians #feanor #nerdanel #maedhros #celegorm #curufin #caranthir #amrod #amras #starting to feel a litttttle crowded here

[inskz]

lucky charm - lee minho

pairing - lee minho x reader

genre - college!au, best friends to lovers, very cliche fluff (lucky girl starring lindsey lohan kinda vibes???)

words - 4k

note - this is just a cute little drabble i wrote while im still waiting for my covid test results to come back so that i can leave my room and see the sun again 🤪 pls be careful everybody take care of your health 💚 enjoy!!!

- - - - -

“You must be kidding me,” you sigh when you see Minho’s hand has turned into a fist, his rock crushing miserably your scissors. Once again, you lost at rock, paper, scissors. And once again, you’re the one that is going to wash your best friend’s dishes that have piled up in is tiny kitchen sink throughout the week.

“Fuck that. This is so unfair,” you grumble, throwing the dishtowel in Minho’s stupid yet perfectly chiseled face.

You make a beeline for his bed, which is actually only a few steps away from the kitchen. Being a broke college student definitely doesn’t allow him to rent a spacious studio, let alone a two-room apartment. You throw yourself headfirst onto his uncomfortable mattress, whose springs always poke your back at night.

“Life is so unfair,” your friend mocks you, dragging out every vowel of his sentence dramatically.

No doubt, you would be strangling him at that very moment if you weren’t so busy playing dead, hoping he would forget about your pitiful existence.

But there is no way mister Lee Minho would miss out on an opportunity to have his gross plates cleaned by someone else. Grabbing onto your ankle, he drags you out of bed until you plop down on the dirty carpeted floor (Minho has the unfortunate tendency to procrastinate vacuuming too). At this point, you are fake crying, throwing a literal tantrum, like a 6 years old child would.

“Life is unfair!” you yell, your feet kicking in the air in pure anger.

At least it is to you. You can’t remember the last time you’ve been lucky. The only instance you got remotely close to it was when you found a four-leaf clover last summer. Well, only if you disregard the fact you stepped into dog poop  on your way to picking it. Oh and that you were wearing brand new white Converse. 

On the other hand, it seems like the boy has the whole crew of the Olympus gods on his side. Not one day goes by without his guardian angel manifesting its presence. 

Minho has always been the lucky type. The type to get an extra nugget in his box of 10. To find 20 dollars bills on the ground. To win every single Instagram giveaway he participates to (and lord knows how much he likes participating to them). 

But how can you be mad at him when he always happily shares his food with you, invites you to the restaurant without you even asking, and gives you his prizes, pretending he doesn’t need them? You don’t believe him when he says he see no use in a panda onesie or a waterproof bluetooth speaker. Deep down, you know it’s his way to silently love you. 

But well, you can still blame him for occasionally taking advantage of your misfortune to make you do his dreaded house chores, just like right now. 

Everyone thinks you are a bizarre duo. Even you can’t fathom how in hell you two became best friends, considering how awfully your first encounter went three years ago. 

On orientation day, he asked you for the time, probably because his phone was dead (or maybe because he was dying to talk to you?)

Without hesitation, you lifted and rotated your wrist so that you could see your watch. Little did you remember; you never actually owned a watch and you were holding a fancy 7 dollars iced coffee, which, of course, did not have a lid on because plastic is bad for the environment (duh). 

Minho couldn’t help but burst out in hysterical laughter when the whole drink spilled on your jeans. For your defense, you didn’t sleep at all the night before  since you were terrified of being alone in your new dorm room the first few days (weird stuff happens all the time in dorms, okay?). If he had asked you for your name, you probably wouldn’t even have been able to tell him. 

But Minho thought you were the funniest person on campus, and he really needed a clown like you to entertain him throughout his endless college semesters. That’s what he told you anyways. Not that he thought you were the cutest human being he had ever seen. 

Why would he when you are the literal definition of a mess: always having toothpaste stains on your sweater, bags under your eyes, messy hair, tripping and falling, missing buses, breaking things, losing stuff. 

Most of the time, you just forget your keys and Minho lets you crash at his place since he hasn’t got any roommate and he isn’t used to sleeping alone, especially without his cats. It surely isn’t because he loves waking up next to a very groggy but adorable you every single morning, no.  

Minho manages to bring you back to the countertop despite your reluctance. Positioned behind you, his arms trapping your body to make sure you can’t run away from your duties, he dips your hands into the soapy water, and you can’t help but squirm at the touch of an unknown substance sticking to a plate that has probably been soaking here for a week. You despise doing the dishes and your friend knows it.

You hear him giggle in your ear while he is playing with your arms like you are some type of marionette, making you to take the sponge and squeeze dish soap onto it. 

You’ve never been the kind to like proximity nor seemed to be Minho, but for some reason, you always end up glued to each other. You hate public displays of attention and pet names a little less when it comes from him. Or maybe you don’t hate it at all and actually crave it every single minute that goes by.

Before he has the time to come up with the Machiavellian idea to soak your pajamas in dirty water (because you know he would inevitably have at some point), you yank his hands off of you and start scrubbing angrily the dirty cups. 

Minho stays behind you anyways, observing your every move, his chin propped up on your shoulder like a curious little bird. To be honest, his presence is kind of getting overwhelming. But whatever, it’s not like his slightest touch makes your heart warm up in comfort or that he smells like fresh linen drying out on the porch of a cottage house on a sunny Sunday morning or anything. 

“You missed a spot. Here” he murmurs teasingly, his lips almost touching your earlobe, while he points at the handle of his hideous ‘world’s greatest dad’ mug Jisung gifted him last christmas. 

You know he has noticed the way you shivered violently at the feeling of his breath tickling your skin because he starts snickering loudly. 

“I swear to god if you don’t shut up and go seat on the couch, I’ll slap you so hard with this spatula you’ll regret you were even born,” you say, turning around suddenly to menace him with the plastic utensil. 

Of course, he isn’t afraid one bit. Right now, you really wish you could make the smug, but oh so attractive, look on his face disappear. 

“Alright, ma’am” he laughs, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’ll let you do your thing”. He lets himself fall onto his dingy couch. 

You can hear him humming one of his favorite songs above the sound of the water running. It would probably be getting on your nerves if his voice wasn’t so pretty.  

“Chan’s sick, so we’re not going to the gym tomorrow night. Do you wanna eat tacos? El Huero has even better deals than usual” he asks you, scrolling mindlessly through his phone. 

“Aren’t the deals supposed to be on Tuesdays?” You frown and scrub a little harder the frying pan Minho has burnt the night before while trying to make chocolate chips pancakes for diner, because why eat savory food when you can have dessert for every meal, right? It is one of the few advantages of living without your parents you both truly enjoy. 

“Yeah, that’s what I said. Tomorrow,” he yawns, probably exhausted after what you put him through last night. You forced him to catch up on the entire season of Love Island because you desperately needed someone to bitch with, and what better partner than Lee Minho.  

You take a quick glance at him and see him stretching himself across the cushions like a cat. You always thought there was something feline about his features. While you’re drying the mugs with the dishtowel, your mind wanders uncontrollably, thinking about his piercing eyes, his delicate nose, the corners of his lips that curl up a little… 

All of the sudden, your hands freeze. Minho is too immersed in TikToks to notice the stupor on your face. “Wait. Today is… Monday?” you stutter. 

Alarmed by the sound of your voice, his eyes finally leave his phone’s screen to look up at you. “Yeah” he repeats slowly as if you are the dumbest person he has ever encountered. 

And you truly are. You are pretty sure your heart has stopped beating. Minho’s “world’s greatest dad” mug you’re holding slips between your fingers and comes crashing on the floor with a deafening sound. The pieces are now scattered all around you, making you unable to make out what’s written on it anymore. Not a big loss, if you ask. 

“Y/N, you know that’s my favorite mug!” he exclaims, leaping up from the couch. “I’m sure you did it on purpose,” he mutters while he’s trying to collect the small fragments, in vain. 

But you’re too shocked at this very moment to pay attention to the glare your friend is giving you. To be honest, Minho has only two moods: glaring at you or teasing you.  

“My interview,” you finally manage to say, and Minho’s eyes go wide as he realizes the critical situation you’re in. 

You check the time on the microwave: 10:45. In 30 minutes, you’re supposed to be on the other side of town, being interrogated by boring businessmen that are going to decide whether or not you’ll be accepted for a paid internship in one of the most reputable music label of the country. Basically, decide whether you’ll live a happy and fulfilling life, working in the sector you’ve always dreamed of or end up miserable with a boring office job and a massive college debt. 

“Holy shit,” Minho whispers. You can see a wave of panic washing across his face for a split second, but, as always, he manages to find his composure back immediately. 

He has never been the kind to lose his cool, except to scold you when you forget the names of his cats and their respective coats’ color (which you unfortunately often did forget). 

“What are you doing? Get dressed!” He tells you when he sees you’re still standing there dumbfounded in the kitchen, like the famous Robert Pattinson meme, wearing an oversize Kermit the frog shirt with a dozen holes in it and his favorite Adidas sweatpants you always stole from him.

“No, it’s too late. I can’t make it,” you mutter, your breath short. You’re paralyzed, as if there is a 20lbs rock sitting at the bottom of your stomach, pinning you to the ground. 

This isn’t bad luck, you think. This is karma. This is what you get for skipping classes to watch telereality shows in your bed with your best friend and not even realizing it isn’t the weekend anymore.

“Miss me with that bullshit.” He runs to his closet and rummages through his drawers, throwing every piece of clothing that’s on his way to find an appropriate outfit that would fit you. 

“You’re gonna go do this interview even if I have to drag you all the way there.” He pushes you into his bathroom since you still haven’t moved an inch. 

You manage to brush your teeth and your hair, fighting through the nauseous feeling that is building up in your tummy. 

When you come back to the living room, Minho has found dress pants and a sweater that might not look utterly ridiculous on you. He lets you change in a corner, while he runs around the room collecting all your essentials. 

“You’re coming?” you ask him when you see he is already wearing his puffer jacket.  

“You really think I’m gonna let you go all by yourself when you’re literally not even able to put your shoes on properly”. You are, indeed, struggling with your laces, as if your fingers are suddenly made out of butter. 

Minho ties them up for you and you literally feel like he’s your babysitter. You know you’re gonna hear about this for months – what are you saying- years! But all you can think about at the moment though, is the fact that sneakers are definitely not appropriate for an interview. 

He throws your warmest coat at you, grab his keys, and by some type of miracle, you’re both out to the door in less than 10 minutes. 

You try to call the elevator, but Minho grabs your arm and leads you to the staircase. His hand never leaving yours, he runs down the stairs and you have no choice but to follow him as fast as you can. 

You can’t count how many times you missed a step and fell at this particularly slippery spot, between the 5th and the 4th floor, but weirdly enough, it doesn’t happen today. 

When you finally reach the ground floor, you exit the complex and Minho hops on his old and rusty bike that he had attached to nearest tree the night before.

“There’s no way I’m riding behind you on this death machine,” you laugh nervously. The memory of that one time Minho convinced you to seat into his bicycle basket (as if you could even realistically fit in it) and you both fell seconds after he started to pedal is coming back to your mind.

Sure, it was after a long night of drinking, you were both tipsy and it was the only way to get you home since you had spent all your uber money at the bar, but still! You’re pretty sure the bruise on your butt hasn’t disappeared to this day.  

“Hurry up,” Minho groans, ignoring your complaint. You unwillingly seat on his flimsy pannier rack and wrap your arms around his torso. 

You haven’t even left, yet you’re already holding onto his puffer jacket for dear life. A giggle escapes your friend’s mouth (which you think is very inappropriate in such a desperate situation) before he lifts his feet off the ground and starts pedaling. 

You try to ignore the loud squeaking of the bicycle drive by shutting your eyes tighter and rehearsing your introduction you have prepared over and over in your head. No matter how hard you are trying, you can’t remember what you are supposed to say just after your age (which, as you can imagine, isn’t really far into your monologue). 

By the way the wind is lashing your face, you can tell Minho has picked up the speed. His breathing is getting louder, his heartbeat faster and you can’t help but think you’re probably way too heavy for him to bike you around like that. Maybe he shouldn’t skip his gym sessions with Chan so often. Or maybe you shouldn’t have eaten the leftover pancakes for breakfast after all.

You find the courage to open your eyelids and are pleased to see you’re already halfway there, probably because every single one of the traffic lights you encounter is green, and your friend is going surprisingly fast. Is luck finally starting to smile upon you? 

Your mad race comes to a halt when you reach the address of your interview. You hop off the bike and so does Minho who, by the way, is a panting mess. He’s barely able to catch his breath, strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, but he’s beaming at you when he realizes you’re just on time. 

“Go” he gasps, pushing you in the direction of the building’s hall. 

You walk up to the glass door but as your hands are about to push it, you pull a 180. Your friend sighs loudly, already knowing what’s coming next. 

“Wait. No. I can’t do this. I’m not prepared” you tell him frantically. “I’m freaking out. I think I’m gonna pass out.” You are now walking in circles, mumbling incoherently. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” 

Your heart is racing in your chest and your hands are getting clammy at the simple thought of failure. But guess what? You can’t fail if you don’t even try! One more good reason to just go back to bed and forget about your sad life for a good 8 hours, right? 

“Y/N, you’re the most talented person I know, you’re gonna do just fine” Minho catches you in his arm to stop your endless pacing. You would probably think this gesture is endearing if it wasn’t just meant to make sure you couldn’t run for your life.  

“No, I’m not. What if I throw up in front of everybody like that one time during the Romeo and Juliet musical?” You look up at him and his face is only inches away from yours. You’re sure you would be swooning at how beautiful he looks if you weren’t so terrified at this very moment.

“You were nine,” your best friend says, and you swear you have never heard him speak to you in such a sweet tone before. His voice is like honey and lavander but it doesn’t soothe you like it should. 

You manage to break free from his embrace to crouch down, in an attempt to slow down your breathing. If only you had data left, you could be watching those short relaxing videos on your phone. They always work. But no, you had to spent it all on online games, just one week into the month. You really are beyond help.  

“Y/N I know you’re scared, but if you miss out on this opportunity, you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your life.” Minho is lowering himself so that you can hear him, even though you’re curled up in a ball. 

“And I’m warning you, I won’t want to hear you complain about it,” he adds, this whole situation obviously starting to get on his nerves. 

If you were him, you would have probably left a long time ago. But this isn’t your best friend’s way of behaving. You know he would never abandon you no matter how annoying you could be (and you could be very annoying sometimes). After all, he is always the one holding your hair while you puke in the toilets when you had a couple too many drinks.

It takes all your willpower to stand up but there is no other way, you have to do it. You can hear the time ticking dangerously in your mind, as if your brain had turned into a clock.

“You’re right. Slap me,” you say, looking at him straight in the eyes, dead serious. 

“Wha -“

“Slap some sense into me. They do that in movies when people are panicking. It’s like throwing a bucket of cold water in someone’s face. But clearly we don’t have a bucket and we don’t have cold wa- “ you start blabbering. 

“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not gonna slap you!” Your friend isn’t usually that horrified at the thought of beating your ass. In fact, he has felt the desire to rip your head off more than once, especially when you’d steal all the duvet at night, but at this moment he is just scared you might have actually lost your mind.  

“Just fucking do it Minho!” you scream, your hands clenching the front of his grey hoodie he always looks so divine in. 

Minho has never obeyed you, and this is not the day he is going to start. 

He puts both of his hands on the sides of your face and crashes his lips onto yours. 

You would be lying if you said you have never imagined the day your best friend would kiss you. It happens pretty much every single time you look at his cute pout a little too long. But one thing is certain, it isn’t like you pictured it to be at all.

You were convinced your heart would go so wild it would burst out of your chest and your head would spin so furiously you’d lose your balance. You thought your stomach would fill with butterflies to the brim and your whole body would be on fire.

But none of that is happening. On the contrary, every single muscle in your body relaxes under his touch. The way his soft mouth presses gently against yours makes you calmer, almost at peace amongst all this turmoil. 

Minho is kissing all your tension and stress away and you catch yourself letting a sigh of relief escape your parted lips.

As if you have kissed him already hundreds of times in your past life, Minho feels like home. He’s a safe haven you can always take refuge in during troubled times. Ever since the day you met, he has never left your side.

When he breaks away from the kiss, you notice your breath isn’t so ragged and your mind isn’t so foggy anymore. You’re serene. His cold hands are still cupping your face, slightly squishing your cheeks, and you feel like an idiot sandwich for asking him to slap you seconds before.

“That can work too, I guess…” you mutter.  

“You’re okay?” he asks, staring at you with the softest eyes you’ve ever seen.

You just nod, unable to say one more word, and sprint to the entrance, not wanting to make your interviewers wait any longer than they already have.

“Good luck!” You hear him yell just before the door closes behind you and you can’t help but grin from ear to ear.

- - - - - 

Thirty minutes later, you finally step out of the fancy lobby to find a very bored Minho leaning against a tree, patiently waiting for you.

“You’re still here?”

“Of course, I am,” he says, his mouth full of croissant. He gives you a large iced coffee he probably went buying to kill time. Your lips unconsciously curl up into a smile when you notice it comes from the same chain that the one you spilled on your lap on the day you first met him. 

“How did it go?” he asks you, sticking his buttery pastry into your mouth so that you can take a bite.

“Way better than I thought” you answer, right after you swallowed. You hate the way flakes would always get stuck between your teeth. But Minho is always there to warn you about it before anyone else notices, and even pick them for you if you can’t manage to, which, when you think about it, is kind of gross. 

There are two things the boy knows about you: you’re the greatest pessimist on earth and you’d rather die than admit you were wrong (especially if it meant he was right). So for you to even say it wasn’t that bad, means it went phenomenal. 

“I don’t want to say ‘I told you so’ but I told you so.” He smiles so wide you can barely see his eyes anymore. You have to look away, otherwise you know you might become instantly blinded by love.

“Maybe I could use some more of your luck” you mumble, staring at your shoes and kicking the red leaves that were surrounding your feet on this sunny autumn morning. 

“Really? And what makes you think I’ll share it with you,” he teases you, leaning forward to incite you to look at him in the eyes. 

“That.”

Your hand finds the back of his neck and pulls him in, in order to close the space that is still left between your mouths.

At first, Minho stiffens, taken aback by your bold move. But soon enough, he caves into your touch. He kisses you back fervently, like he means it. 

His fingers entagle in your hair, his arm wraps around your waist and his chest presses against your body. You’re melting in his embrace, submerged by a wave of bliss which he alone seems to know the recipe. 

It feels new, yet so familiar. Like it was supposed to happen, like it was written in the stars. 

He tastes like croissant and Americano. Like fortune and fate. 

And you can’t help but think you’re the luckiest person on earth.

Who cares about winning the lottery when Lee Minho is your lucky charm? 

#lee know scenarios #lee know fic #lee know fluff #minho scenarios #minho imagines #minho fluff #lee know imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfic #skz au #skz scenarios #skz fic #skz imagines #skz fluff #skz drabbles #stray kids drabbles #lee minho drabbles #lee know drabbles #as u can probably tell I still don’t know what tags to write oooppsss

[imaginethathaikyuu]

tis the damn season

atsumu miya x fem reader 

the first fic in a series i like to call “Me Writing Whatever The Hell I Want” (a working title) hope u like it or dont idk im not ur boss!!!!!!!!!!

synopsis: Running away was easy when you were chasing hazy dreams of a big city that was destined to be yours, when your rear-view mirror showed nothing but your hole in the wall hometown. But now it’s all waiting tables and failing auditions. You were still running, but somehow, these winding roads always lead you back to Miya Atsumu - a man you’ve loved and left, until you return home for the holidays. 

tags: friends to lovers, exes to lovers, angst without a happy ending, established pre-relationship, friends with benefits, reader lives in Undisclosed Big City lmao who has celebrity dreams, atsumu is ur good ole southern boy (sort of), canon divergent, not edited, light nsfw, beginnings of sex but isn’t very detailed 

word count: 4220

song inspo  (tis the damn season by taylor swift)

-

i won’t ask you to wait if you don’t ask me to stay… 

. . . 

The soundtrack of this early morning replayed in your head as you made a hazy drive to the neighborhood’s hardware store, cutting left onto the correct street and forcing the car’s back tire over the curb you couldn’t miss. 

The replay of events looping in your mind? A whirring, then a splashing, then your father’s booming voice shouting curse words at anyone who could hear them. Your name was laced in there somewhere with demands for you to get to the kitchen, and you couldn’t tumble down the stairs fast enough to see what in the hell was going on. 

It was your first day home for the holidays, and already it was a catastrophe. 

Somehow your dad had busted a pipe underneath the kitchen sink and a strong stream of water was spraying halfway across the room because of it - your feet landed in a shallow pool when you finally reached the first floor. You didn’t have time to think of any questions before the man at fault, who was on his knees with his head hidden under the sink relentlessly trying to turn the water off, sent you out the door with more shouts, telling you to go to Miya’s Hardware and buy… something. 

“A connector?” You were talking to yourself, thinking out loud as you finally parked, but it didn’t help you remember. All you could do was walk inside the store and hope someone knew what you needed. 

It’d been years since you had been in this shop, but it looked just the same as when you were following your dad through its isles. You didn’t even bother browsing now, though - you went straight to the back of the store to the counter, expecting to see a familiar, perhaps older, face eager to help you. 

That isn’t what you found. 

“Well, hey stranger.” 

That voice rang in your ears like you’d just heard it through a megaphone pointed directly at you. Something about it was so warm, but it left you with a shiver down your spine and goosebump ridden skin. You could feel the hair on the back of your neck standing up, and you hadn’t even turned in the direction the words came from. 

But you didn’t have to look in order to know just who it was. “Atsumu.” 

“What in the hell are you doing back in town?” His voice rang with excited confusion; it carried the same inflection as anyone who’s happy to see you. Like nearly forgotten family members at a reunion before it all goes to hell, or the way the tone of your father’s voice changes when you tell him you’re doing well and mean it. People don’t speak that way often. 

He pulled you in for a hug and you gladly reciprocated, already forgetting that you were supposed to be in a hurry. 

“Home for the holidays. How have you been?”

“I’ve been alright,” he replied. “I’ve missed you.” 

His voice felt more like home than your four bedroom walls did, the charming drawl and depth in his words immediately reeling you in. It was familiar. You had spent a long time trying to forget about that familiarity; too long learning how to straighten out your words and lose any hint of the small town you came from. But Atsumu - he sounded like the epitome of this place. 

He didn’t give you time to reply, for one reason or another; instead he decided to push you back by your shoulders and get a good look at you. Up and down and up again, likely noticing every change you had made to your appearance in your time away. 

“Are you still wearing your pajamas, or is this a new… trend?” 

You looked down at yourself, “Shit,” and closed your jacket tight over the old graphic t-shirt you wore, but nothing could cover your pink polka-dotted pants. And you’d have been hit in the face with embarrassment if the image of your dad and the broken sink and a flooded kitchen didn’t smack you first. “Shit, no, um… I need something to fix a broken sink. Are you… do you work here now?” 

“I do - and you’re gonna need to be more specific.” 

“I don’t know, Atsumu,” you laughed, slowly realizing the bizarreness of what you were about to tell him. “I woke up to my dad shouting and water shooting out from under the sink, literally flooding the kitchen. He told me to get a part for the pipe… a connector, or a couple, or something - I don’t know.” 

“...A coupler?” 

“Yes!” 

“...He didn’t happen to tell you what size to get, did he?” 

The look on your face must have been a good enough answer for him, because he took off into a random aisle and left you wondering just how many sizes of couplers there could be. 

“This one will probably do the job,” he said as his path rounded the counter. “If it doesn’t, then, I can ignore the return policy for you. Just this once, though.” 

“Thanks, ‘Tsumu.” You made your payment and he slid your product over the counter as his elbows landed on it, leaning down to make himself comfortable. Like he thought he’d be there awhile. 

“How long are you gonna be in town?” 

“Two weeks. Why do you ask?” You knew why - you just wanted to hear him say it. 

“We should catch up.” 

He was grinning and shrugging and fidgeting with his fingers, just like he always did, and you would never turn down any offer he made you. 

“We should. I’ve got to get home, but are you free tonight?” 

“We close at six,” he said. “I’ll pick you up at seven.” 

“I’ll be looking forward to it,” you said, meaning every word. You wondered if he knew that. 

“So will I,” he replied, and then you made your way out before you convinced yourself to stay. 

It’d been three years since you last spoke to Atsumu. In that time, you had done a lot that felt like nothing, living in a different city that felt worlds bigger than this town - that city was a place you had once convinced yourself was all yours. You had pulled off running away effortlessly. 

But it didn’t matter how much time goes by between your meetings with Atsumu. There was something there that you could never shake, the hold you had on each other was anchor tight. Ten years could pass and you would speak to each other like it had only been one day. You’d have world ending fights and one of you would always come crawling back, letting the other win as long as it meant things would go back to normal. 

You couldn’t describe it. You never tried, you didn’t need to. The unspoken acts between the two of you didn’t need to be explained. It was something akin to a best friend with all the benefits included and most of the strings attached - confusing and nerve wracking but still so comforting. 

Atsumu was the closest thing to home you had in this town, and somehow every road always leads back to him. With a few detours on your part, of course, because you just couldn’t stay away too long. Even moving across the country didn’t change that - not like you thought it would. 

You just barely missed the turn into your driveway, being so distracted by your thoughts. So much was rushing back, so much that shouldn’t be - it isn’t a big deal, it’s just Atsumu, but it felt grand, like this was some massive reunion. 

But it wasn’t. You were only here to celebrate Christmas with your family. You weren’t even planning on seeing Atsumu, let alone meeting up with him or rekindling any kind of flame that was once there. 

And it was such a rush that you couldn’t even question why he was working at his father’s store - or why he was even in this town at all. What happened to the dreams he was chasing? 

For what felt like the first time in your life, you had questions for him. But you’d have to wait all day to ask them. 

. . .

You were thankful to come home to a dry floor and a calmer father - he finally figured out how to turn the water off and decided to fix the pipe later. You knew he’d inevitably be paying someone more qualified to repair it, but your mind had no space for that problem. 

You were still trying to figure out how you’d meander the night with Atsumu by the time he was picking you up, and when the two of you arrived at his home you still hadn’t found your answer. 

Easing into this would be best, and once alcohol was introduced to the equation it would turn into a slippery slope. 

Nothing was hard with Atsumu. You knew that - that’s why you couldn’t figure out why you were having such a hard time talking to him. 

A lot had changed. Not between the two of you, not exactly. You were right back where you were three years ago: on his couch, sitting too close to him, laughing at something he had said that was only funny because he said it. 

But your lives had changed. Your worlds had changed. His mind had very obviously changed, and because of it all, you couldn’t keep pretending that the two of you were teenagers again. 

You had to bite the bullet and ask the question that was on your mind, completely knowing that he could throw a hard hitting question back at you.

It came out more effortlessly and lighthearted than you expected. “So… what happened to playing volleyball?”

Atsumu scoffed. “You still remember that pipe dream? Nothing happened, it was just childish.” 

You didn’t like his answer, so you pressed him. You worked up the courage to start this conversation, so you were going to get to the bottom of things. “You said you wanted to catch up - I know you, Atsumu. You get what you want and you wanted to play volleyball. You were going to be a pro, you were good.” 

“I know you know me,” he said, and the smirk on his lips didn’t go unnoticed by you. “I wanted to get drunk and chat, not start up a fucking therapy session.” 

You sat patient and waiting, eyes on him, refusing to go without the answer to your question. You were teasing, really, eyeing him up and grinning as you watched him struggle. The problem was: you didn’t expect the answer you’d get. 

“I - I had the chance.” There was a scratch in his throat that wasn’t caused by the whiskey he’d just swallowed. “I was being scouted and playing my ass off and there were talks of being on an Olympic team one day, but… shit happens, and that’s it.” 

“What shit, Atsumu? You didn’t just give up, did you? Were you scared or something?” 

You didn’t realize how close you were to him until his hand came down to rest on your knee, and both of you focused on that touch as his next thoughts became words. “Dad got sick. And ‘Samu had just opened the restaurant, and… there were bills to pay and the store to run. Even though I wasn’t his preference, Dad had no choice and left the legacy of Miya’s Hardware to me, so - that’s where I am.” 

“Oh. I… I had no idea - I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s fine. You were already long gone by then - don’t say sorry.” 

“I’m sorry,” you said, and you hugged him without thinking, but he hugged you back all the same. “I’m sorry, ‘Tsumu.” 

“It’s okay,” he told you, but you didn’t feel okay. You were sure he didn’t, either. “It’s not your fault.” 

You pulled away from him just enough to look at his face, and you hadn’t noticed the distance in his eyes until just then. As you looked at him, you realized it was only familiar to now. It wasn’t there years ago, when you got to look into those eyes every day. 

“I should’ve been there for you.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, but his words were dangling on an edge. He didn’t quite mean them. “You were off in your own dream. I got through it.” 

You only nodded. You weren’t sure what else to say after that. 

As Atsumu sat back against the couch, he brought you with him, tucking you under his arm against his chest. His lips on your forehead made you close your eyes and for a second, it was like you were both nineteen again. You could’ve been, if time would only slow down or freeze or go back - what wouldn’t you give for that? 

“I’m done talking about me,” he mumbled. “I wanna hear about your life now.” 

You laughed, but quiet, “My life’s been fine.”

“Only fine?” 

“You don’t see me on the big screen, do you?” 

He laughed this time. “Not yet. One day, though. Have you gotten used to the city yet?” 

“Oh… I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it, but… it does feel like home now. It’s so different from living here.” 

“I bet.” 

“I try not to romanticize it, but - I don’t know. It feels good, even if it’s not what I thought it’d be. The lights are pretty bright. Blinding compared to here.” 

His response was a nod, and that was it. If he had any questions or comments, he held them back. 

A break in the silence came soon, though. “You know,” he said, quiet, with a small laugh that was humorless, “I’m not as good at getting what I want as you think I am.” 

“That’s not true,” you replied, and you were setting up an argument you weren’t ready to make. “You got me.” 

“Did I?” 

“What do you mean?” 

Silence lingered, and after too long you sat up and looked at him, and that got him to talk. 

“Nothing,” he insisted. He pulled you closer with two fingers holding your chin, and you didn’t resist. “Nothing, baby. Let’s just… just be quiet for a while.” 

There wasn’t time for you to say anything else. His lips were on yours the moment he got his last word out. And even though you expected him to kiss you, it still made you gasp. 

You couldn’t describe how much you missed kissing someone you wanted to, and Astumu’s kiss was like finding home. His lips were like candy, sweeter than sugar; his bite was a freezing shock that always pulled a giggle and a whisper of his name out of you. He knew how to kiss you, slow and deep with a hand on your jaw to keep you there, never leaving you wanting more because he gave everything you could ever need. 

It didn’t take long for his kisses to trail down your neck, or for his shirt to come off, or for your back to land on the couch. You had already reached euphoria just seeing him hovering over you, eyes soft and hair askew; you didn’t need anything but this. You’d never want anything but this. 

You did what you always did - trailed your hand down his torso, over his golden skin, stopping just after every freckle or scar or mark. This time, you were looking for something new. You didn’t find anything. You didn’t stop until your hand landed on his waist, and there, you squeezed - 

“Stop, you little shit,” and he laughed, right along with you. A real and genuine laugh - you hadn’t heard that song in a long time. “Why do you always do that?” 

Finally he moved down to press his chest against yours, his hips locking in place between your legs. A perfect combination. 

“Why do you always give me the chance?” You were still laughing, not able to get over the cute sight. Atsumu was always so ticklish there, right on his waist, and when you made that discovery you swore you’d never forget it. And he sure as hell wished you would have. “You’re so cute. I’ve missed that smile.” 

“I’ve missed you,” he replied. Somehow you just knew that he meant it. 

“Don’t. I’m here.” 

“You’re here,” he repeated. Like he was reassuring himself. 

You took the initiative to unbutton your shirt yourself, so that there was no way for him to think that you wanted this to stop there. It couldn’t, not when you had him this close. And his eyes followed the popping buttons like stalking prey. 

“And you’re still the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. Fucking hell.” 

You cringed - you couldn’t help the feeling in your gut when he gave you those sweet words. You knew he meant them in some way; you knew Atsumu wouldn’t lie to you. He’s never told you anything just for the sake of it. But how many times, in the last three years, had someone done just that? Told you just what you wanted to hear so they could get inside you? It was vile the first time. The second, it made you ache. But now, you’re used to it. Nobody means what they say. You’re used to it. 

And Atsumu could snatch up any girl he wanted. A girl who’s used to blinding lights and expensive wine and lying - or a girl who would stay with him, who wouldn’t push his buttons, who would be effortless in her charm and wit and beauty. 

You couldn’t put yourself in either category. 

“You haven’t seen many, then.” 

“Why would I even need to when I’ve got you? You’re a fucking dream. All I ever think about.” 

You shook your head, not even noticing you were doing it. Atsumu wouldn’t have it. 

“Don’t do that,” he said. “Not when you know what you do to me. You’ve got my heart beating out of my chest, for fuck’s sake - it has been since you walked into the store.” 

You never knew him to be so open with his feelings, or maybe you had just gotten used to being lied to. You weren’t sure and you didn’t care - all you could think about was kissing him, so you pulled him in, and you were sure he would devour you. You’d have no problem with that. 

It was desperate when you said, “I need you.”

And reassuring when he replied, “I’m right here.” 

He wasn’t close enough. You didn’t think he ever could be. And it was right then, when you were swimming in desperation, that you realized you shouldn’t have been doing this. It would only make leaving even harder. Doing it the first time was hell, letting him watch you leave and be okay with it. You hated yourself for wishing he wasn’t. And you were drowning. 

You hated yourself for leaving. 

You hated yourself more for coming back. 

And you didn’t want to be there, all of a sudden, despite the ache in between your thighs and the addicting warmth he had you trapped in. You didn’t want to be there and you didn’t want to leave, either - you only wanted something easy, but you’d never have it. Not here, and not in the city, and not with Atsumu. 

You felt him freeze, felt things shift. You hadn’t even noticed the way your energy had completely dropped. 

“Something wrong?” He moved up to hold your face. He noticed the tears in your eyes before you did. 

It was hard to look at him but you held his gaze, and his touch hurt more than it healed but you yearned for it. The concern on his face was genuine, the gentle strokes of his thumb on your cheek weren’t forced, and it all was making your stomach turn. 

He cared for you - obviously he did - but not enough to ask you to stay. Not enough to find trouble in letting you leave him. So maybe you shouldn’t have a problem with it, either. 

“No,” you said through a sore throat and a locked jaw. “Sorry, just…” 

“We don’t have to do this,” he told you. “We can just talk - I want to talk. If it’s too much -” 

“It’s okay,” you said. You tried to mean it as much as, “I miss you, Atsumu. I want you - touch me, I miss you.” 

“I know,” and he was wiping the tears off of your cheeks as he kissed your lips, “I’ll take care of you, baby, just let me. Stop thinking so much. Let me take care of you like I always do, yeah? You want me to help you feel good?” 

You always had a problem with that - thinking too much. He never hesitated to call you out on it. You nodded your head, strong and fast, like you were trying to knock the thoughts right out of it. 

“Please, ‘Tsumu.” You were crying for him, pulling him closer. “Need you. Make it better, please.” 

“I’d do anything,” he said. “You gotta quit crying, baby. You’re acting like our first time again.” 

You laughed at that, wiping your own tears and knocking his hands away. “God, that was so embarrassing.” 

“It was cute.” 

“It wasn’t.” 

“It was kinda hot, too.” 

“Atsumu!” 

It was his deep grin that made you relax again, and so did another blissful kiss that took your breath in a way that you enjoyed. 

“You can cry, baby,” he said, popping buttons on both of your pants, “as long as it’s because of how good I’m making you feel. That’s what you need, pretty girl. Let me show you how much I’ve been missing you - get these pants off, baby, let me see you.” 

He didn’t give you the chance to cry any more, at least not in an emotional sense. Your mind was stripped with your body, filled with nothing but him, no space between the two of you left for insecurities or questions. 

It wasn’t until he coaxed you into his bedroom that those things had the chance to creep back. 

Atsumu was out cold, cuddled into your chest and holding on tight to your waist, after smothering you in soft kisses and sweet sleepy words. You were comfortable there, warm and safe and content, but the pit in your stomach only grew. You watched him sleep, his mouth slightly open and eyes softly closed, and you wanted to reach down and kiss him but you resisted. 

It was late and you should be asleep but you couldn’t rest. You couldn’t stop loathing yourself long enough to close your eyes, and the more you thought, the harder it got to breathe. Your throat was sore again. Your eyes were watering again. And every word you wanted to say to Atsumu was tumbling out of your mouth and falling onto sleeping ears. 

“Why didn’t you ask me to stay?”

He didn’t stir. It was still rumbling breaths and the whir of the air conditioner filling the silence. 

“Everyone else did. But you. Why… You of all people should know I’m just as worthless there as I am here - I’ll never make it - I’ve changed everything and still…” 

You sucked a hard breath into your lungs to stop a wracking sob, just barely holding it in. 

“I just ended up here again. With you. I’m so alone without you but I can’t - fuck.”

It didn’t even matter what you were trying to say anymore, because you had no clue. You didn’t know why you couldn’t just stay with him regardless of his choice to let you go, but something in you made you run. Maybe it was worthless pride or a childish desire to be something more - you didn’t know. 

You didn’t belong in any industry you dreamed of working in. You weren’t born to be a star. You should know by now - should accept your failure and come back home for more than just one night. 

But you couldn’t. 

There was still a chance, wasn’t there? 

A chance to belong somewhere.

A chance to be led home.

A chance to make it. Would you die trying? 

You would leave in the morning. And you wouldn’t ask Atsumu to wait for you as he started getting ready for the day. And Atsumu wouldn’t ask you to ditch your own plotted destiny just to stay with him. 

But this would happen again. Every time you would swear it off and every time, you would travel roads that take you right back to this town, this bed, these arms. 

Running away would never get easier, but this is all it would ever be with him. He would never stop you leaving - and you would never ask him to.  

. . .

...so i’ll go back to LA

#i researched how to fix pipes for this #by research i mean i went to hope depot dot com and looked at Pipes #my friend actually busted his sink pipe the other day exactly like i wrote and our other friend (who works at lowes) said he needs a Coupler #in conclusion i dont know how sinks or pipes work. do not perceive me or my writing. #miya atsumu #atsumu miya #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #i forget what other tags i need to use lmao

[blitzturtles]

Title: Guilt

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Stardust Crusaders (set after Golden Wind, given Jolyne's age.)

Pairing(s): JotaKak, JoKa, (Platonic) Jotaro & Jolyne, (Platonic) Kakyoin & Jolyne

Summary: Kakyoin is in the middle of answering one of Jolyne's many questions when he feels something twist violently inside his abdomen. He tastes what he thinks might be bile at rist, but the metallic tinge registers, and,

Oh god, no. Not here. Please not here.

Notes: Involves emergency surgery, chronic pain, preteen!Jolyne, PTSD, disabled Kakyoin, and near death experiences.

-

Here's the thing: Jolyne hates him. It's not a secret, and it's definitely not something that she bothers to hide from him. Jotaro keeps swearing that she'll come around. Says she's just stubborn (like her father is, Kakyoin sometimes thinks with far too much affection for a man that regularly drives him up the wall). There's also the fact that she's a preteen, and kids are apparently just like that at her age.

Here's the thing: Kakyoin would hate him, too. If he were in her situation. He's petty on a good day, and a right bastard on any other. He can't imagine being in her situation. With divorced parents who, while amicable, are both ridiculously successful and constantly busy. And then waltzed in Kakyoin, right in the middle of it. Though 'waltz' is a bit of a stretch. He doesn't do anything like that with his plated spine and braced legs, but none of that matters. The real point is that he gets it.

He does his best to never push more than he has to. For the most part, he lets Jolyne do her own thing, because she's a Kujo and a Joestar. She's going to do what she wants anyways. His opinion be damned, though he does try to reason with her. Hell, he's given into bribing every once in a while. (Sometimes the means don't matter when father and daughter are both happy at the end of the day.)

In short: Jolyne hates him, and Kakyoin understands.

______

Here's the thing: Jolyne finds Kakyoin to be a nuisance. An interference. One more complication to an already complicated life, and she's only eleven. She wants her parents to get over their bullshit (language!) and figure out how to make things work. She wants Kakyoin to go away, but that doesn't mean she wants him dead. Or injured. Even if she did wish him off the end of a pier that one time. Still.

They've admittedly grown to be more friendly over time. She talks to him now, which is an improvement to the chronic cold shoulder she gave him before. Sometimes she even asks him for help, because her dad can be surprisingly useless when it comes to school work (weren't you in school when I was little?) He always seems happy to help, and he never gets as frustrated as her dad.

So maybe she doesn't hate him, but she definitely wants him to go away.

______

Kakyoin is in the middle of answering one of Jolyne's many questions when he feels something twist violently inside his abdomen. He tastes what he thinks might be bile at rist, but the metallic tinge registers, and,

Oh god, no. Not here. Please not here.

He doesn't need to know-- specifically-- what went wrong to know that he's dying. The moment the pain goes from barely tolerable to utterly agonizing is about when his brain lets him know that he's operating on borrowed time.

Kakyoin could have used that warning approximately five minutes ago. Before the pain. Before he found himself in front of Jolyne.

"I'm sorry," he tries to say, hopes the words come out audible enough for her to understand.

There are tears welling up in her eyes, and they fall soon enough. God, he's made Jolyne cry. She's so young. So unprepared. And she looks so much like Jotaro. With panic stricken eyes and fingers that grasp for something to do. Some way to fix this. It makes his chest ache beyond the twisting and shearing that his insides are already doing.

(She looks exactly like Jotaro, in the hospital after the Foundation managed to retrieve them. The way her hands fumble in the air is so much like how Jotaro had reached out desperately, trying to hold onto Kakyoin, in case those had been his last moments. Like father, like daughter, Kakyoin thinks without humor.)

His knees hit the ground first, and that shoots pain up his legs and along his hips. The rest of it ricochets and dies somewhere midway up his spine. It's a momentary distraction away from the agony that is his middle. He reaches with his fingers to press against his stomach, half expecting them to sink inward (into nothingness. There's nothing. Dio punched a hole right through him, and he's going to die.)

Jolyne is yelling. His name at first, then for her father. Again, he's reminded of the day he died. Maybe it's all been a dream. He's waking up now and the end is pressing down on him. The light will follow soon. He knows; he's seen it before.

"Please!" Jolyne begs him, "I'm sorry!"

He is, too. It's the last thing he thinks before his eyes slide shut and the darkness grabs at him greedily.

______

There's shouting and bright lights and something covering his face. He can't make out anything with his vision so blurry, but he thinks he hears Jotaro's angry voice booming what could be an entire room away.

"If you fucking put a finger on him that isn't necessary to keep him alive. I'll fuck-"

"Dad!"

Jotaro inhales sharply but nods to the surgeon one, final time, "His team is on their way. Not a goddamn finger."

______

The Speedwagon Foundation has several doctors that Kakyoin sees on a semi-regular basis. Each is a specialist in their own right, and they're the only reason Kakyoin ever made it home from Egypt. They're also the only ones that regularly work on updating all the augmented parts and maintaining the damaged remains of Kakyoin's organs. They know him inside and out. Quite literally.

The team makes it to the hospital long before Kakyoin comes out of emergency surgery, which means the whole process is extended significantly. The upside (if it could be called that) is that Kakyoin doesn't have to be put under again. The downside is that it means they'll be waiting awhile.

Jotaro does his best to be strong for Jolyne. It's his job as a parent to keep a calm façade and push his emotions to the side. She needs someone to be her reassurance.

He fails miserably.

______

The head of the Foundation team emerges some hours later, looking a little worse for wear. The stoicism past that does little for Jotaro's nerves. It tells him nothing of what to expect.

"Well?"

"He's stable," the doctor answers. "We had to take out several inches of colon this time. If I had to guess, he probably believed himself to be having a flare. He adjusted to the pain until he became necrotic." His expression shifts into an unpleased frown, "He also has two ulcers. Has he changed his diet? Or experienced any new stressors?"

Jolyne's lip quivered as she processed the doctor's words. She thought over every time she and Kakyoin had fought in recent history. Most of it being her yelling at him.

Jotaro's focus remains fixated on the doctor, "What the hell kind of pain is he still having?"

The doctor-- one Jotaro recognizes from previous visits but can't recall the name of-- sighs, "Kakyoin will only allow us to do so much to help manage his pain. I'm not his specialist in that regard, but it's at his request that he's kept on very little in terms of medication."

Jotaro knows that. He knows that Kakyoin doesn't like what stronger pain meds do to his head, but how out of control is his pain that he didn't notice that he was dying? That his body has been rotting from the inside out for an unknown amount of time?

Jolyne shifts further behind him, drawing his attention to her. It's the only thing that spares the doctor whatever response Jotaro might have otherwise formed. He turns to look at Jolyne and is startled by the tears already trailing down her round cheeks. Realization hits him then.

She's eleven, and he's an idiot.

"Hey, hey. Enough with that. He's going to be okay," Jotaro says quickly. He should have- called her mother or his mother or literally anyone. This isn't a conversation she needed to be privy to.

"It's me," Jolyne chokes the words out. Her thin arms wrap tight around her middle, and she looks close to collapsing on the ground.

Jotaro, admittedly, has no idea what she's talking about, "What's you?"

"The stress!" She practically wails.

Jotaro sighs and moves to wrap his arms around Jolyne. He tugs her in against his chest. "That- that's not the kind of stress the doctor is talking about," he glances over his shoulder to see that the man had already dismissed himself. Smart guy.

"I'm always mean to him!"

Jotaro wants to laugh. Not at all because he thinks her words-- or her suffering-- are funny, but because the whole situation feels unreal. He cards his fingers through her hair instead. It's all the comfort he feels like he can offer in a situation like this. With his own resolve teetering on the edge.

"Takes a lot more than that to take out Noriaki," he's lying through his teeth. The whole new family thing might damn well be enough stress, but he's never going to let Jolyne think this is her fault. It's not. Kakyoin is capable of making his own decisions, and being part of their family is one of them.

Jolyne crumbles against him despite the gentle words, so he scoops her up and holds her against his chest. Even at eleven, she's nothing compared to his size. He finds a nearby seat to settle into and lets her cry while he whispers promises he can't be sure he'll be able to keep. Eventually he tries distracting her with facts about dolphins, and that either has some effect, or she passes out from exhaustion. Either way, he's relieved when she snores against his neck.

______

Kakyoin comes to the waking world in a haze. His head aches and his middle feels a lot like it might have been ripped open again. He hopes that whatever happened had been a little more civil than that.

It doesn't take him long to place himself in the hospital. That's good. He isn't dead, and he's not immediately at risk of falling into enemy hands. The beeping to his left is annoying, and he can't see well enough to make anything out on the monitors around him. His vision tends to be the last thing to recover when he's been knocked out for a while. Still, he turns his head to continue to take in what he can make out.

He stops short when he sees two people in chairs on his right side, closer to the door. The familiar hat catches his attention immediately, not that he needs to be able to see at one hundred percent (or his version of it) to know that the man is none other than Jotaro. His size will always give him away before anything else.

Jotaro's head is bowed in a way that indicates he's likely asleep. He's undoubtedly been here awhile. Jolyne sits beside him with her head pressed against her father's bicep. Star Platinum is out and wrapped around both of them. He lifts his hand from Jotaro a moment to wave at him brightly, which is enough to disturb his user's sleep.

"Mm?" Jotaro grunts. He opens his eyes and sucks in a breath. He takes a moment to compose himself, which is fine. Kakyoin thinks he probably looks worse than he feels, thanks to the drugs. He would make a joke about it, but moving still hurts.

"Good to see you awake. How're you feeling?" Jotaro asks. He doesn't move from his spot, if only to avoid waking up Jolyne, but that intense gaze is evaluating all the same.

Kakyoin gives a noncommittal answer, and Jotaro snorts, "That's what I thought you'd say. Good thing we have this." He reaches for the little controller on the side of Kakyoin's bed. He presses the red button before Kakyoin can protest.

The glare he shoots Jotaro is relatively short-lived, and it's hard to be mad when Jotaro looks so damn triumphant, even if it's about something that Kakyoin has complicated feelings about. He decides to let him have this one, considering the fact that he's pretty sure he gave them all one nightmarish scare.

"I'm sorry," he says after a while, head lulling back against the pillows. His red hair spreads out all around. It's longer now than it ever has been, but he hasn't felt the need to cut it beyond a simple trim in years. It doesn't matter, but it gives himself something to focus on rather than the gnawing guilt.

"Don't be."

"I- god, I never meant-"

"Kakyoin."

"If I had known, I would have left the room or-"

"Kak-"

"She was so afraid. And she-"

"Noriaki," Jotaro snaps more than says the name, but his eyes are soft. "You aren't the only one that made her cry in the last few hours, so you're not special." That's not true. Kakyoin is incredibly special, but he needs to make some kind of light-hearted comment before he starts crying. Nobody needs to see that.

"Still," Kakyoin mumbles, but he doesn't continue.

Jotaro reaches out with Star, who clasps his large hand over one of Kakyoin's. He wants to lean forward himself, but he doesn't want to wake Jolyne up. Not yet.

Kakyoin turns his palm up to tangle his fingers together with Star's. He brushes his thumb over the stand's, knowing Jotaro can feel it reflected on his skin.

"I really thought it was a flare," he says after a while, because he feels like he owes some sort of explanation after everything.

"Nori, I really can't tell you how much I don't give a damn about that," Jotaro frowns at his own words, "No, I mean- I care, but- fuck." He scrubs his hand over his face a few times before trying again, "You don't have to feel guilty for this shit, okay? I should have noticed you were in pain."

Kakyoin shakes his head. He squeezes Star's hand to make sure Jotaro's listening when he speaks, "It's not your fault. I deal with this pain all the time. It just- at first it felt like a flare, but I guess I got used to it." And every time the pain worsened, he acclimated until it had nearly killed him.

Jotaro doesn’t get a chance to respond before Jolyne is rustling against him. She opens her eyes a crack and reaches up to wipe at them with her fists. “Dad?”

“Right here,” Jotaro grunts in response. He squeezes her shoulder gently, then retracts his arm to give her space to stretch out. “Kakyoin is awake.”

He watches the fog clear from her eyes. They widen as she processes his words, and her attention immediately turns to the redhead, who waves meekly at her.

“Jolyne, I’m- oof!”

Star quickly gets his hands around Jolyne’s waist, suspending her in the air enough to keep her weight from falling too heavily onto Kakyoin. He lets her down carefully, and the youngest Kujo looks sheepish for her overreaction.

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s alright,” Kakyoin says, curling an arm around her loosely in return. He hadn’t expected to be nearly tackled upon awakening. That went doubly so when considering Jolyne as a factor. She’s never hugged him before. Trauma is funny in that way; something he knows from first hand experience.

Jotaro steps up behind her and offers a small smile to Kakyoin, “We’re glad you’re alright.”

“Yeah!” Jolyne echoes, “You scared the shit out of us!”

“Jolyne,” Jotaro’s voice is gruff. An attempt at a warning that falls short. The way his lips pull further upward is a dead giveaway that he isn’t particularly upset by her language usage.

“It’s true!”

“Good grief.”

Kakyoin snorts at the father-daughter duo, relieved to see the two smiling again. Already bickering as per usual. There’s too much snark trapped in the Joestar bloodline, and it always amplifies whenever there’s more than one of them in a room. He’d know, having been on the road with Joseph and Jotaro in the past.

Somehow the back and forth settles into Jolyne rambling about dolphins. She regurgitates facts that-- for the most part-- Kakyoin already knows, but he feigns shock and awe at all the right places to keep her spirit up. It’s more healing to watch her babble emphatically than it is lying around in a hospital bed, staring at the ceiling. It eases some of the guilt, makes him feel lighter.

Eventually, Jotaro whiskers her out the door. Kakyoin catches sight of Holly, which must mean that Marina is tied up. Holly doesn’t come in, likely at her son’s behest. The woman is a mother through and through, and she can be a bit overwhelming at times. Better to focus all that maternal energy on Jolyne for now.

“You look tired,” Jotaro says when the door clicks shut behind the two. He takes his spot back next to Kakyoin’s bed, pulling his chair as close as he can. His knees grind against the railing of the bed a bit, but the distance allows him to lean forward and get a good look at his partner.

“I could say the same about you,” Kakyoin points out with a raised brow. He still can’t pick up his head for more than a few seconds at a time, and his vision remains fuzzy around the edges; a likely side effect of being drugged to the gills, but he isn’t blind. He can see the bags collecting under Jotaro’s eyes. Exhaustion-- emotional as much as it is physical-- already weighing his shoulders down.

Jotaro snorts an unamused sound, “I’m not the one that just had emergency surgery.”

Kakyoin winces at the reminder. “I’m-”

“If you finish that statement, I’m going to give you a reason to be sorry,” he isn’t. Jotaro won’t hurt him, but the words make Kakyoin close his mouth anyways. For a second.

“Oh, and how are you going to do that?”

Jotaro stares him down for a solid thirty seconds, expecting him to back down. When he doesn’t, the man pushes himself to his feet with an exasperated sigh. “Good grief, c’mere,” his fingers hook under Kakyoin’s chin, and he leans down to press their lips together.

As far as life affirming kisses go, it’s one of Jotaro’s more gentle ones, but Kakyoin feels the thrill of it chasing down his spine anyways.

“I love you,” Kakyoin murmurs as they break apart. He wants to add an apology to the end, but he bites his lip and keeps it to himself for now. He’ll find a way to make it up to Jotaro and Jolyne later.

“Love you, too, Tenmei.”

#jotakak #jotaro kujo #kakyoin noriaki #noriaki kakyoin #jolyne kujo #jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #jbba part 3 #stardust crusaders #blitzwrites #blitz

[hermannsthumb]

If you're still taking requests!! Fake Dating situation where Newt and Hermann go to a public event together. they're used to being mistaken for a couple at the Shatterdome, so they expect to be mistaken for a couple at the event. But then they meet someone who definitely Does Not mistake them for a couple (because homophobia) and assumes they're just Very Good Friends. cue Newt and Hermann aggressively pretending to be a couple.

always and forever taking requests!!! this is such a fun one, THANK YOU

--------------

“We’ll have to go in eventually,” Newt says.

Next to him, Hermann silently fumes, apparently unable to decide whether to continue tugging at his stiff collar or grinding the bottom of his cane—over and over, in a sort of circle—against the sidewalk, leaving streaks of black rubber behind. “I hate these damn things,” he says under his breath, though it’s unclear whether he means his outfit or the event. Hermann’s dressed up tonight in a suit that’s hilariously oversized (even for him) and fraying in places, with a bowtie that he’s knotted crookedly. Newt wonders if the suit’s a hand-me-down from his brother. “Begging for funding, as if we haven’t anything better to do with our time. As if we’re not working for the better of all of them. It’s bloody degrading.” He works his jaw angrily. “And if that isn’t enough—everyone always makes—assumptions—about us.”

Oh, okay. The event. “Assumptions?” Newt says.

Hermann lets out a hiss of air between his teeth. “Assumptions,” he repeats, delicately. “About—ah—the certain nature of our relationship.”

“Oh,” Newt says. “Oh.”

At the last one of these things they went to, someone (actually generous enough to open their checkbook for once) asked Hermann whether they should make it out to the PPDC or Dr. Gottlieb and his husband. At the one before that, a dinner event, the name placards at their table said Dr. Newton Geiszler-Gottlieb and Dr. Hermann Geiszler-Gottlieb. Before that, at a more casual affair at an up-scale bar, some tech hottie sent Newt a martini, before hurrying over and apologizing in person that (gesturing between Newt and Hermann) he didn’t realize Newt was with someone. Newt really wishes Hermann would just get it through his head already that introducing someone as your partner and dropping the important research part of it tends to hold drastically different connotations outside of, like, the group of people who know them on the Shatterdome base, because that would clear up probably sixty percent of the confusion. If not just so he can pick up a few numbers at these things for once. Still, though—for some reason it’s never really bothered him like it clearly bothers Hermann, but Newt supposes he’s not exactly a catch by any standards, so it makes sense. “I just don’t know where they get the impression—” Hermann begins, and Newt interrupts him.

“Yeah, well, you should take it as a compliment,” he says. “You could do a lot worse than me.” He opens the door for Hermann and ushers him in. “Seriously, we’ll be late if we don’t go in now, and that makes it, like, twice as awkward.”

As usual, they have to sit through some incredibly boring speech about how they’re sitting among some of the best scientific minds of the century right now, how they’re honored to play host to their colleagues at the PPDC, how the buffet will opening shortly for dinner, and then a different person gets up and makes another speech, and then another person with another, until finally the first person gets back up and promises that closing remarks will be in three hours, and how they should all enjoy themselves until then. Claps. Under his breath, Newt says to Hermann, “Doubt it.”

“Which side shall I take, then?” Hermann sighs. He’s probably the only one in the room not clapping. He told Newt a while ago that he doesn’t like to put on airs, and especially not in the service of flattering someone’s ego, and he’ll only clap for a speech if he feels it deserves it. He’s such a weirdo.

Newt surveys the room, considering. Luckily, people tend to flock together in similar little groups at these things. Birds of a feather shit. “Left. Everyone on the right is too young and hip-looking, so that’s out of your range.” He gets a cane to his shin, and grins even has he winces. “Kidding. Let’s just do it together, it’ll make it more bearable.”

Their first target is a forty-something marine biologist who’s very excited to meet Newt— “I followed your research on jellyfish for years!” she says. “I had no idea you’d be here tonight!” —and who is more than happy to promise donating a little to help fund the war effort. Their next is someone younger than both of them, whom Newt suspects is heir to his dad’s tech company or something, and who is easily guilted into promising even more than the biologist. “We’re having a lot better luck than usual,” Newt says, as they watch the kid hurry away to mingle with a group of other twenty-somethings. “Do we look more, like, respectable tonight or something?”

“It’s the open bar,” Hermann says.

“Yeah, probably,” Newt agrees.

“And anyway, we’re still terribly behind on our goal, so there’s no use getting too pleased over ourselves,” Hermann says. He sniffs. “If you still want that bloody—whatever it was—kaiju spleen, we need at least—”

“Okay, okay,” Newt says.

He nods at a small group standing by one of the buffet tables, holding half-eaten plates. People tend to be in better moods when they’ve eaten something. Hopefully more generous moods too. “Let’s try them,” he says.

Hermann is the one to initiate the conversation this time, launching at once into a variation of the little script he and Newt penned so long ago the night before their very first gala. “Good evening,” he says. They get a few polite smiles and nods of acknowledgement in return. “I’m Dr. Hermann Gottlieb, and this is my partner—” Newt tries not to groan. “—Dr. Newton Geiszler. We’re here representing the PPDC tonight. I don’t suppose we could have a moment of your time?”

The mood of the group changes immediately, but why Newt can’t figure out; it’s like they suddenly go hostile on them. Hostile, and tense. Newt is suddenly astutely aware of how each of the three dudes have a good few inches on both him and Hermann. “The PPDC?” the guy in front says. He's not smiling anymore. Maybe they all supported the jaeger program defunding or something. “Sure.”

“Er,” Hermann says. He clears his throat. “Newton—that is, my partner and I work for the kaiju research division at the PPDC’s Hong Kong base. As you may well be aware, the latest cuts to the PPDC’s budget have been quite dev—”

“So you and your friend,” the guy says, with a little more emphasis on the friend than Newt would like, “are going around asking for donations? To help buy pencils or something?”

“Well. Essentially,” Hermann says. He doesn’t seem to have picked up on what Newt did, though he grows visibly nervous anyway. Outright hostility isn't anywhere near as common as indifference at these sorts of things. “Though, pencils is—er—a vast understatement.” He casts a furtive, desperate glance at Newt—a help me if Newt ever saw one. “My partner—Dr. Geiszler—simply doesn’t have enough funding for the samples he needs to study—and donations would certainly help with our funding for other necessary supplies—"

“I sure we’d love to help you and your friend,” the same guy says, and there’s no missing the emphasis this time, “but we’re a little busy at the moment. Please come back and talk to us later, though.”

Hermann clamps his mouth shut. Newt narrows his eyes, and in a move bold enough to surprise even himself, snags Hermann’s arm and links his own with it. “Sure thing,” he says loudly. Hermann goes rigid and stiff under him. “Come on, babe, let’s get something to eat. I know how you get when you’re hungry.” Then, before he can stop himself, he brushes a single kiss at Hermann’s cheek, and tries not to laugh at the looks they get.

He waits until they’re out of eyesight (Newt having had to sort of drag Hermann along with him) to drop Hermann’s arm. Hermann hasn’t moved a muscle since Newt touched him, and even now, he just sort of blinks at Newt. “What on Earth—?”

“Dude,” Newt says. “That guy was a total jerk. He thought we were together, and—”

“He did not,” Hermann says. “He kept calling you my ‘friend’. It was a bloody nice break from what usually happens, I might add, and now you’ve gone and—”

“Hermann,” Newt says. He sighs. “You’re, like, totally missing my point. He thought we were together.”

“But he called you—”

“Yeah, exactly,” Newt says.

Hermann blinks a few more times. “Ah,” he says.

“No way in hell do we need his money,” Newt says. “Anyway, sorry about the—” He touches Hermann’s cheek, and then gestures to Hermann’s left arm, which is now just sort of hanging limply at Hermann’s side. “I just wanted to screw with him. I won’t do it again, though—”

“No!” Hermann says quickly. The tips of his ears go red, and he fumbles as he grabs Newt’s arm again. A sudden warmth situates itself like pressure over Newt’s chest, identical to the kind that’s creeping up his wrist where Hermann’s fingers just grazed his bare skin, and he’s struck with the sudden bizarre urge to duck his head and blush himself. Since when has Hermann had this kind of effect on him? “What I meant to say is—” Hermann licks his wide lips. “He might still see us. We ought to—to keep up the ruse.”

“To really screw with him?” Newt says.

“For what other reason?” Hermann says.

Newt forces himself to keep a smooth, neutral expression as Hermann unwinds his arm to lace their fingers together instead, with a lot more awkward fumbling. “Uh-huh,” he says. He remembers how soft and smooth Hermann’s cheek had felt, so unlike his own, which can never seem to hold a clean shave. How nice Hermann's hand feels in his now. He’s definitely going to have to unpack this later. “Yeah, that’s—good idea, Hermann. Let’s do that.”

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Hermann's POV in this fic is just newt touching his hand - REALIZATION #Anonymous

[coccinelle-et-chaton]

Adrinette April Day 13 - Family

@adrinetteapril

This one's a tear-jerker my guys 😃

Based on this thread and the ideas of @bookdragonlibrary

Family

There was no reason to be nervous, Adrien told himself. It’s not like he didn’t know the Chengs and not like it was the first time he’d spend time with Marinette’s parents, either. But things were different now.

As of a couple days ago, Adrien was, officially, Marinette’s boyfriend.

The thought still made him blush, still made him stutter. He was still assimilating the surprise, the revelations that had ultimately led to Mari and him come together.

He knew Fei and Uncle Wang would be in the city, Marinette had invited him to say hi to them before it all happened. They were going to cook food together, play some games, and catch up with Marinette’s relatives. He knew them, there was no reason to be scared. Uncle Wang was one of the sweetest men he had ever met, and he always enjoyed spending time with Marinette’s parents. Mrs. Sabine liked playing video games with him and Mr. Tom always taught him new puns to add to his arsenal. Fei was also fun to spend time with, even if her favorite pastime was to try to fluster him in Mandarin, in front of Marinette.

It was going to be okay, there was nothing to be scared of. Except now he wasn’t just Marinette’s friend. He was more than that, and to the extent of his knowledge and resolution, he’d continue to be more than just her boyfriend in the future.

The thought made his stomach churn, realizing this was the root of his anxiety.

He was going to be part of this family, sooner or later. Or at least, he hoped to. He didn’t dare say that to Marinette though, not after exactly three days of dating. He was worried he might come off as too eager even if deep down, he knew Marinette would never judge him for wishing something like that. Then, there was the fact that his family had never been big. He did have his aunt and cousin in London, and to the extent of his knowledge, some relatives he had never known lived somewhere in Belgium. But the Agrestes had never been family gathering enthusiasts. Not to mention, holidays of any kind went by uncelebrated at his house. He didn’t know how to act in front of a family, especially not one where each individual member had more or less adopted him in their own way over the years and he had confectioned a particular brand of his personality for each of them. It made him infinitely anxious.

He sighed, gathering his courage one last time before heading to the backdoor of the bakery, following Marinette’s instructions to just go in because everyone would be there--again, wrecking his nerves because that’s not at all the way he was taught to enter a room. At his house, you always had to let the person know you were headed to where they were, and even then, you had to knock and wait.

He ended up knocking at the door, unable to bring himself to just pop in.

“Hello, Mari’s boyfriend that wasn’t her boyfriend but now is for real her boyfriend!” Fei said in energetic Mandarin as she opened the door.

He blushed and grinned, replying in Mandarin as well, “Hi Fei. It’s good to see you!”

She signaled him to come in and announced, without switching languages, “Marinette’s boyfriend is here!”

Adrien didn’t need to see his face to know just exactly how red it was. Mortified, he stepped into the bakery kitchen, immediately assaulted by the rich, homely aromas of the food that was being prepared. Everyone was doing something: Tom and Sabine were tending to the preparation of steamed buns while Uncle Wang was teaching Marinette how to prepare dumpling filling from scratch, while simultaneously monitoring the broth he was cooking. The room bubbled with conversation, laughter, and music playing in the background. Everyone stopped momentarily to acknowledge him.

“Hi, Adrien!”

Adrien had never known a combination of anxiety and being comforted by the sense of being home could ever coexist in a moment.

Marinette wiped her hands on her apron and hurried to greet Adrien with a big hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. Adrien’s first instinct was to tense up.

“It’s okay,” Marinette said in his ear, “My parents really don’t mind.”

Hearing this, he let go of a sigh and relaxed, hugging her as well.

“Come, I got you something,” Marinette said, with a devious smile as she pulled him to the large kitchen island at the center of the room, where Fei and she had previously been mincing ingredients. She opened a drawer and produced a black apron that had a print of a little cartoon cat wrapped in a tortilla, with the words ‘I’m a purrito’.

Uncontrolled laughter escaped Adrien, immediately diluting the quiet, polite front he was trying to summon.

“I knew you’d appreciate the lame pun,” Marinette said, sliding the loop of the apron over Adrien’s head.

“Cat puns are a superior form of art, excuse you,” Adrien said, chuckling.

“I agree!” Tom said from his corner in the kitchen.

“Don’t encourage him, dad,” Marinette said while Adrien smiled, anxiety slowly leaving him as he became acclimated to the mood.

“Hello Mr. Cheng!” said Adrien in Mandarin. “I’m happy to see you again, I hope your flight was alright.” He was self-aware of the fact he had unintentionally slipped into the rehearsed politeness he usually addressed adults with.

“It’s good to see you, too, Adrien!” said Wang. “And no need to be so formal! You can just call me Uncle Wang. You want to help me with the broth or you’re helping the girls?”

“I, uh... would you like me to help you?”

“If you want,” Wang said kindly. “Or you can help Sabine and Tom with the steamed buns, whatever you feel like doing.”

Adrien smiled sheepishly at Wang and looked around himself a little bit. “Um... I think I could help the girls if that’s okay.”

“Of course!”

Adrien walked over to the part of the isle where Fei was teaching Marinette the tone difference between yī qǐ, yì qi, and yí qì as they carefully confectioned dumplings.

“No, listen, yì qi. You’re saying yí qì,” Fei said.

“I don’t hear it,” Marinette sighed, trying again.

“Yì qi, yí qì,” Adrien said, carefully intoning so that she would hear the difference. “Loyalty to your friends is one tone away from ‘abandoned’.”

“Is that what I’m saying?” Marinette said, surprised.

“Yì qi means personal loyalty,” said Adrien. “Yí qì is literally, ‘abandoned.’”

Marinette sighed. “I’ll never get the hang of it.”

“You can always practice with me,” Adrien offered, beaming at her.

“That’s what I’ve been telling her,” Sabine intervened. “See, I told you Adrien would be willing to help you.”

Marinette blushed as she sneaked a glance at Adrien.

“Besides,” Fei said. “It’ll come in useful if someone pickpockets you in Shanghai.”

Marinette and Fei smiled at each other, complicitly.

Fei and Adrien continued quizzing Marinette on her pronunciation as they slowly, but surely went through several batches of dumplings. Once the food had been prepared, they took everything upstairs to the apartment, cleaned up, and hung the aprons.

“Yours goes here, Adrien,” said Sabine, showing him the four hangers next to the door. It was apparent that the fourth one had been recently installed. Adrien found himself questioning why he felt so emotional about a wall hanger.

“Thank you...” he said, sounding more touched than he meant. Sabine simply smiled at him, seemingly unaware of his reaction.

One of the things Adrien loved about having dinner at Marinette’s was that they always put the different dishes at the center of the table. Adrien knew this was normal, of course, but he had grown up eating by himself and just one serving of one dish per meal. The idea of having several different plates you could choose from and the fact you had to share them with others gave him a bizarre satisfaction, a sense of belonging that he was sure was misplaced.

Then there was the fact that the room was never quiet. It was a stark contrast of what he had always known: Wang and Sabine were telling stories to Marinette about growing up in a village near Shanghai, what it was like when they moved. Tom told jokes to Fei, explaining to her the puns when she didn’t get them because of the language barrier. Adrien listened and watched both in wonder and with a certain melancholy, finally knowing the kind of warmth he had been missing all these years.

Noticing how he had grown quiet, Marinette reached for his hand under the table and squeezed it, then with her thumb gently caressed his ringed finger. She smiled at him, and he inevitably reciprocated, filled with overwhelming joy as he remembered they were now finally and officially, together.

After dinner, everyone gathered in the living room and played a few rounds of charades and Pictionary. Eventually, everyone voted to have Adrien and Marinette and Tom and Sabine in different teams because every time they were in the same one, there was no way for the opponents to win. They seemed to always know what the other was saying. In Marinette and Adrien’s case, her family attributed it to their talents at acting and drawing, but they knew it was because that level of synchronicity came with experience, with the bond they had inadvertently cultivated with their masks.

Eventually, the time for Adrien to go back to his house came, much to his disappointment. He was not even gone and he already missed the warmth of being around Marinette’s family. Before leaving Wang reminded him he was always welcome to visit him again at the restaurant whenever he was in Shanghai again, an invitation that had Adrien thankfully bowing to and accepting in a sudden bout of awkward Mandarin.

“I hope we get to see each other again before you leave,” said Adrien before Marinette walked him downstairs.

“We are,” said Fei. “Aren’t you coming tomorrow? Marinette said I’m meeting Alya and Nino. We’re going to do the touristy Paris things.”

“No, I have to work tomorrow,” Adrien admitted, evidently disappointed. He had lived in Paris all his life and he’d never done a walking tour or one of those hop-on-hop-off buses. It was really a shame.

“Ah, that’s too bad. But hey, Paris has a lot to see. I’m pretty sure we’ll be out for most of the day, right Mari?”

“Right,” she said, smiling at him. “You can join us when you’re done, Min-- Adrien.”

Adrien gave her a look, recognizing the slip of the tongue she evaded. Luckily, if Fei noticed, she didn’t mention it.

After saying his thanks and goodbyes, Marinette walked Adrien down and waited with him while his driver arrived.

“And?” Marinette asked. “What did you think?”

“I had a lot of fun, thanks for inviting me, Mari.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Marinette said. “I already told you, Chaton. You can come here whenever you want. Plus it was a family gathering, everyone hoped you’d be here.”

“Really?” he said.

“Of course! But you did enjoy yourself, right? You don’t have to come next time if you don’t want to. You seemed a little tense at the beginning.”

“I was a little nervous,” he confessed. “I had never been at a family gathering before.”

Marinette’s heart twisted painfully with Adrien’s confession. “Oh, Adrien,” she said, pulling him into a hug.

“To tell you the truth, I almost cried like, three times or something,” he said chuckling if only to hide how moved he actually was. “Your parents installed a hanger for my apron,” he said, burying his face on her shoulder. “Apart from all you’ve done, that’s literally the nicest thing anyone has done for me.”

“Well, now you’re going to make me cry.”

Adrien laughed, kissed her cheek, and pulled away from the hug. “No, Princess. Don’t cry. It’s okay. I’m really happy. I can’t wait for the next time we do this.”

“We do it every weekend,” Marinette said. “I mean, it’s only the three of us, but if you want you can--”

“I can come every weekend?” Adrien said, excited.

“Of course,” Marinette said. “I keep telling you, Adrien. You really can come here anytime you want. Even when I’m not here. Sometimes I find Alya literally just chilling with my mom or my dad, waiting for me to get here. I mean, you’ve met my parents and Uncle Wang, they know what it’s like... What it’s like to uh, you know...”

“You can say it, live with a horrible father.”

Marinette looked down as she chuckled. “Something like that. My dad has a complicated relationship with his own dad, too, you know? They had been fighting at least for the last twenty or so years, he had shut dad out until I intervened. And my mom, well you heard the story, she moved here young and had no one. They know what it’s like to miss your family, and they’re always happy to include others who are or were in similar situations. Especially if that person is my boyfriend.”

Adrien had to pull her into a hug again because this time she really had made him tear up and she didn’t want her to see it. “Are you doing this on purpose or what?” he said, sniffing. “You want to make me sob, milady?”

Marinette laughed, rubbing his back in circles. “No, Minou. I’m just trying to reassure you, I mean it. This is your family, too, Adrien... If--if you want it, I mean I don’t want to sound---oh wow that sounded so weird didn’t it? I--”

Adrien interrupted her by pulling her into a kiss. One that still carried the tints of surprise, realization, and excitement of the discovery of their identities, but that was also steadier, calmer, more conscious than the first few they had shared.

Adrien’s bodyguard pulled up in front of them shortly after they had broken apart. “I love you, Mari,” said Adrien, not knowing how else to convey all that he was feeling and leaning into one last, short kiss before boarding the car.

He sighed as the car drove away, head in the clouds and heart fuller and warmer than it had ever been as he thought about the Dupain-Chengs, but above else Marinette, his family.

#adrinetteapril2021 #adrinette april 2021 #day 13 - family #adrinette #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #or should i say adrien dupain-cheng #sabine cheng #tom dupain #fei cheng #wang cheng #keeping up with the chengs #ml fic #miraculous ladybug fanfic #miraculous ladybug #my writing #ml spoilers

[phantom-curve]

Happy 2nd Borthday!! From your prompt list, 24 or 29 for Willex? AU your choice.

Thank you! So, I somehow managed to combine both of these prompts and it may or may not be absolute chaos. Inspired by the time my husband told me he learned to take my tickle aversion seriously after I full on kicked him in the balls, please enjoy ticklish Alex and regretful Willie, set in a high school AU where everyone is alive!

#24: whispering in their ear, lips touching skin & #29: tickling the other one (Rated T for language)

So, it probably hadn’t been the smartest choice to let Willie know just how ticklish he was. Usually, Alex kept that little tidbit to himself as long as he possibly could. Maybe it was because Luke, Reggie, and Bobby had figured it out in third grade and continued to use it to their advantage every chance they got. Maybe it was because his dad always told him that real men weren’t ticklish. Whatever the reason, Alex didn’t typically share how ridiculously sensitive to tickling he was unless he absolutely had to. And right now, he was desperately wishing he hadn’t ever told Willie about it. Because what he had also neglected to tell Willie, was exactly how violently he reacted to tickling. And not in a cute way, but in an actual I will seriously hurt you way.

Which was why Willie was currently rolling around the floor of the Molina’s studio, curled in on himself, moaning in pain.

“Willie?! Oh my God, I am so sorry!”

Alex wanted nothing more than to reach out to comfort the other boy but given the fact that he had just elbowed him full force directly below the belt, it didn’t really feel like his comfort would be appreciated. Willie didn’t respond with much more than a quiet groan and Alex’s guilt grew exponentially.

“Okay, okay, I’m gonna...I’m gonna go grab some ice and I’ll be right back!”

He fled from the studio before Willie had a chance to respond, tearing up the path from the studio to the Molina’s house as if his feet were on fire. Julie, bent over a Calculus book with Luke hovering distractedly at her side, raised a judgmental brow as he burst into the kitchen.

“Aren’t you supposed to be having your little study date out in the studio? Where’s Willie?”

“Hmmm, yeah, yes, I am, but uhhhh, I need some ice.”

Alex had already stuck his head in the freezer, rummaging past bagged tamales left by Tía to hunt down the ice pack he knew was lurking somewhere within the frozen depths. Luke chuckled loudly from his spot at the breakfast bar.

“What gives, dude? Did you try and impress him with your mad drum skills and accidentally chuck a drumstick at his head because you were so distracted by his beauty?”

Alex pulled his head from the ice box to stick his tongue out in Luke’s direction.

“No. Not all of us fuck up playing just because the object of our affection happens to smile at us.”

Luke’s cheeks turned a bright red and Alex silently applauded his victory. Luke hadn’t managed to properly play through the bridge of Finally Free once since Julie had started sharing the mic with him during it. Take that Biceps McSleeveless. Julie rolled her eyes, oblivious as always to the underhanded barbs passed between the boys.

“Okay, so, why are you suddenly pawing through my freezer like you’re searching for Narnia? And, again, where’s Willie?”

Alex felt his own cheeks warm to match Luke’s. It wasn’t really worth lying about, even if it meant accepting a certain amount of ribbing from Luke in the aftermath.

“I, uhhh, might have maybe told Willie about how ticklish I am? And I might have maybe hit him in the balls when he tried to test just exactly what I meant??”

Julie, to her credit, maintained a strict poker face. Luke, on the other hand, lost his shit completely, falling off the stool as he laughed his goddamn ass off at Alex’s misfortune.

“It’s not my fault!” Alex tried to protest. “I told him I couldn’t be held accountable for my reactions when I was tickled! I just...didn’t tell him that my reaction might be no holds barred violence? Fuck he’s never gonna go on an actual date with me now.”

Alex felt his shoulders slump, the shame weighing heavy on his conscience. If only he could be like the other boys, normal and not so ticklish that he completely blanked and went into fight or flight mode with his dial always turned to fight. Things had been going so well before the whole tickle incident too! Willie had been kind and patient with Alex as they worked their way through a series of physics questions in his homework. At one point Alex had even sworn that Willie got so close Alex could practically feel his breath along his neck, the atmosphere shifting into a kind of charged tension as Willie whispered directions for solving the problem right into Alex’s ear. Just the thought of Willie’s lips against the skin of his neck had Alex feeling a bizarre mix of hot and cold all over. He shivered at the memory, and then remembered he was standing in front of the open freezer door. Julie squeezed in next to him, grabbing an ice pack from one of the shelves and pressing it into Alex’s hand.

“Lex, breathe, okay? Willie probably feels just as bad for tickling you in the first place. You were as honest as you needed to be about that and he’s probably kicking himself for pushing past your boundaries.”

“Right, yeah, okay? Right? Like...we can both be at fault here, yeah? I can just...go apologize and give him the ice and everything will be okay, right?”

“Right,” Julie agreed, guiding Alex back towards the back door and shooting Luke a death glare as he rolled around the kitchen floor still laughing. “Just...go apologize and see what happens. It’s not the end of the world.”

“Okay...okay,” Alex nodded. “Not the end of the world. I fucking ball racked the dude I’ve had a crush on for months but it’s not the end of the world. Yeah. Okay.”

Julie nodded and practically shoved Alex down the path back to the studio before closing the door behind him, the lock clicking into place as a clear indicator that she would not be letting him back inside before he dealt with this. Alex tripped his way down to the studio and took a deep breath to steel himself before wrenching the garage doors open and slipping back inside. Willie had managed to move from the floor to the couch, though he was still half folded over in pain. Alex offered him the ice pack with a sheepish smile.

“I’m uhhh really fucking sorry about that. I didn’t...I should have warned you that when I said I was really ticklish I actually meant ‘don’t tickle me unless you want to be violently assaulted.’”

Willie looked up at him through his long, messy brown locks, taking the ice pack with a kind of dignity Alex only wished he could fake right then. And then, he smiled, actually fucking smiled, like everything was fine.

“Don’t worry about it, dude. I shouldn’t have tried to test it. You told me you were ticklish, and I should have left it at that. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“Made me...made me uncomfortable? Willie, I fucking elbowed you in the...!”

Alex gestured helplessly and then realized exactly what he was doing and let out a high-pitched whine of embarrassment. Willie giggled softly.

“I mean, I was kind of asking for it. You have a right to react like that when someone touches you in a way that you don’t like. I’m just mostly sorry that I took advantage of you like that. I swear that was not how I pictured our first date going.”

Alex’s brain short circuited. Nothing but a blank blue screen as Willie’s words repeated in his mind endlessly: first date first date first date.

“This was a date?”

Not the best line, but could Alex really be blamed for such a lame response when his brain wasn’t actually properly working anymore?

“I mean...yeah I was kind of hoping it was?”

Willie laughed quietly, only a small bit of awkwardness tinging his tone.

“No, no...I mean, yeah! I...I also wanted it to be a date...if that’s...cool with you?”

Look, Alex had never claimed to be smooth. Socially awkward and anxious, yes. Smooth? Hell no. Willie stood, stepping close to Alex until the scent of his coconut shampoo tickled Alex’s nose. He dropped the ice pack to the floor with a plop, reaching up to move an errant strand of hair out of Alex’s face with ice cold fingers. Alex felt frozen to the spot, especially as Willie leaned in close, just like before, so that Alex could feel his hot breath across his neck, his words floating through the small space to twist themselves into Alex’s ear.

“Hey Alex, wanna go on a date with me?”

Alex stuttered for a short second, desperately searching for the only acceptable words to answer a question like that.

“Yes...yeah...yes, definitely.”

Willie laughed again and Alex could swear he felt the way the other boy’s lips quirked into a smile against his skin.

“Awesome. I promise not to tickle you this time.”

Send me prompts for my second birthday!

#mads writes #send me prompts for my birthday! #so I learned while writing this that 'ball racked' isn't actually a term outside of my high school group of friends #but actually it's a GREAT term and should be used more regularly so you're welcome for that #willex #jatp #julie and the phantoms #willex ficlet #jatp ficlet #willex week

[babbushka]

Hi Mrs Z! From the physical affections list I think 9 & 10 would be super cute for when Mob!Kylo finds out his wife is pregnant. Feel free to make it smutty too. I think about them often sharing the joy of the news after trying for a while to get pregnant. Thank you!!!

(1k ; fluff, pregnancy cw!)

You can’t believe it, looking down at the little test with a hand over your mouth, stifling your gasp. You’ve been in the bathroom for an hour, in shock, in disbelief, in pure and utter joy. You had suspected that something was up, you had so desperately hoped, but after so long of trying with no success, you hadn’t wanted to give Kylo any reason to get his hopes up and then crushed.

But as the three little plus signs stare back at you through tear-filled eyes, you practically trip over your feet as you rush out of the bathroom and find your husband flipping through a magazine in the kitchen.

He turns to you immediately, brow furrowed. Kylo doesn’t like to be away from you for so long, and you being locked up in the bathroom had worried him. He had half a mind to call the restaurant where you had dinner last night and have the cook shot, thinking he’d given you food poisoning or something from the way you looked so ill.

Now though, he realizes that it hadn’t been illness, it had been anticipation, as you drop the tests right onto the counter in front of him.

“What’s this?” Kylo stares at them and can barely manage to take in the three little signs before tears are welling up in his eyes.

He goes very very still, looks up at you, looks back at the tests. Is he dreaming? Is this a dream? He prays it’s not, prays that he won’t wake up, that he gets to keep this reality.

“Kylo.” You whisper, your eyes shining wet too, and when you give him a nod, his knees falter and he has to grip the counter harshly to keep himself from falling.

“Wait – wait, what – wait does this mean?” He stutters, stammers over his tongue, vision blurred as his brain plays catchup, as the realization slams through him, heart hammering in his chest. It’s happened, finally, after months of trying, after nearly wanting to give up, finally it’s happened.

“We did it.” You’re grinning through tears that slip over your cheeks, laughter bubbling up through you, elated, “That’s the third test, all positive. You’re gonna be a dad.”

Kylo drops to his knees in front of you, buries his face in your stomach as he wraps his arms around your hips and sobs. You look up to the sky and thank the universe for this, for giving you this, for giving you Kylo – and Kylo, though his head is a jumbled mess of hopes and fears and joy, he is thanking it for you just as fiercely.

“Hey,” You grin, biting at your lip and hiccupping around a wet laugh, “Hey come here honey, come here. I’ve got you.”

You tug on his ear and pull him up up up so that he’s standing again, that height of his making him have to look down at you, tears plip-plopping onto your cheek as he kisses you deeply. You brush them away with your fingers gently, and he can’t help but scoop you up in his arms with all his excitement and twirl you around and around.

“Fuck I’m just…so…happy.” He sounds angry, like he doesn’t know how to process any of it maybe he doesn’t, but that’s just the way your man was. He’s holding you tight against him and kissing the top of your head, kissing you all over.

“Me too, oh Kylo, they’ll be perfect.” You sigh, blinking away tears that he catches with his thumbs.

“Of course they will, they’re ours. No matter how they come, they’re ours, sweetheart thank you, thank you.” He presses his forehead against yours and takes in deep breaths, trying to steady himself through your touch, trying to ground himself. “We can’t tell anyone – except Luke, we have to call Luke.”

“Let’s wait a little while, just to make sure nothing happens. I’m not jinxing anything.” You whisper, the age old worries handed down through your DNA yelling at you to keep the news under wraps.

“I love you, perfect woman, I love you.” Kylo nods, kisses you once more before his eyes fly open and he looks around, voice deep and concerned when he says, “We’re going to have to move.”

“I love you! And aw but I love the penthouse.” You pout, it was the first place you and Kylo ever bought together, it’s been your home for these many years, and you had hoped to raise little ones here.

“It’s not big enough for a baby.” He shakes his head, and you laugh openly at that thought.

“Not big enough! Kylo we’ve got eight-thousand square feet.” You scoff, and he grins, the first smile he’s given you all day. It was a hard habit for him to break, that scowling, but if there were any news that would’ve gotten him to crack, you were glad to know that it was this.

In fact, he smiles so wide that it’s almost bizarre to see, all those teeth of his. He laughs, your Kylo, laughs and hangs his head because he knows you’re right, you’re always right. There’s extra rooms that you don’t need, you both know this, you can get rid of the second closet and convert it into a nursery with no problem.

But…you can’t deny the thought of growing your family in a standalone home, somewhere on a tree-lined street, with a backyard to run around in…it does sound appealing.

“Thank you.” Kylo whispers, before smirking against your lips and splaying a hand across your stomach even though there’s nothing there yet to really feel, “I’ll have to take you to Paris more often.”

“I certainly wouldn’t be opposed.” You beam up at him, before letting your husband sweep you off your feet and carry you through the penthouse to the bedroom, where you don’t plan on coming out for a long long time, too excited to celebrate the good news on this crisp autumn afternoon.  

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren/reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren/you #kylo ren fluff #adam driver fanfiction #adcu #mob!kylo ren #mob au #Anonymous #cowboy answers

[whiskery-louis]

Priorities *part 2*

I am so sorry for the delay but I was on vacation and just had a very few busy days! Here is part 2 of Priorities, I am planning a part 3 for sure possibly a part 4! Please please let me know what you think!

part 1

“We came backstage and you were just gone. One text saying you needed a break? That’s all we were worth to you? Is that all I was worth to you Y/N? I thought we could be something, but you never gave me a chance. You just bailed. And now we show up after all this time and you have a kid? I can’t believe it. I just-I just need to know. Am I the dad?”

“Wait what?” I stared at him in disbelief, trying to stifle a laugh because of how serious he was.

“Don’t laugh at me Y/N I’m serious. Unless you were fucking other guys it’s obvious why you left. You got pregnant, and you got scared so you ran. I just don’t know why you wouldn’t tell me. It's not just your life that was affected.”

I took a step towards him and he didn’t pull back. I reached out and pulled his hands into mine.

“Luke, I’m not laughing at you. I can see how serious you are, but the baby isn’t mine.”

“It’s not?” I turned to see Calum, Mikey and Ashton standing between the kitchen and the front room.

“We didn’t mean to listen, but you guys were right there and there is no door…” Ash trailed off.

I sighed knowing it was finally time to tell them the truth. I gestured for them all to sit around the dining table as I grabbed the glasses Luke left by the sink. I left the boys, chose what they wanted to drink and grabbed a few snacks out of the pantry in case anyone was hungry. Just as I was about to sit down the baby started crying. I sighed looking at the boys.

“Give me a few minutes to get him up and then I’ll explain everything. I promise.”

Luke

I couldn’t believe that after all this time I was here sitting in her house. It was a nice house, but it was still weird to think of Y/N spending all her time here raising a baby. There were baby toys all over the place, a pile of clothes overflowing from the laundry room around the corner and baby bottles stacked next to the sink. As I looked around though, there were still little pieces that showed she lived here too. Her worn out vans lay just inside the door, half empty water bottles gathered on the island, blankets covering every inch of the couch. They were all things that unmistakingly said Y/N.

I never believed her excuse of needing a break from touring, she loved everything about being on the road. And selfishly I thought she enjoyed spending time with me. I don’t know when things changed between us, but one night we were drinking with the rest of the boys and I was walking her back to her room and the next morning I woke up next to her. We promised to keep it casual but after a few weeks of hooking up she started spending the nights in my room; we talked about everything during those early morning hours and it was then that I realized she was someone special. I knew that I wanted us to be more and I was planning on taking her out on the town after our New York show, but we stepped off the stage and she was gone.

I was devastated, and the boys did what they could to cheer me up but they had all sensed a change in me the months prior. So when Calum suggested we pay Y/N a visit with our week off I jumped at the chance to figure out why she really left. We were all curious as to her reason for leaving, she used to talk about nothing but being on the road and all the things she planned to do when the tour ended. And not once did she mention settling down. It was bizarre when we found out she had bought a house in a small neighborhood outside the city. During our late night talks she always said that she couldn't fall asleep without the sounds of the city right outside her window.

“So if it’s not her kid, what is going on here?” Michael broke the silence, looking around the table before settling his eyes on me. I looked up and realized all three of them were staring at me.

“What?” I mumbled, slightly uncomfortable under their gaze.

“You knew her best Luke, did she ever mention anything?” Cal asked.

“You think I wouldn’t have told you guys? I’m as shocked as all of you.”

It was silent again as we all sat with our thoughts waiting for Y/N to come back out. When she opened that door yelling about waking up a baby my heart stopped. Out of all the scenarios that ran through my head the last six months I never thought Y/N had a baby. My heart dropped to my stomach and I couldn’t believe that she would leave and not tell me about something as big as a baby. But now she’s saying it’s not hers? I’ve never been more confused and craving answers. My anxiety was through the roof, I couldn't stop bouncing my knee and chewing at my already chipped red nail polish.

“Luke you can relax,” Ashton broke the silence. “She said the baby’s not her, which means it's not yours.”

“I know,” I sighed, “It all just made sense when I thought she left because she had a baby. I just need to know the truth.”

Reader POV

“Okay it’s gonna be okay buddy.” I sighed as I was changing him. “There are some friends downstairs waiting to meet you. And I know you don’t understand what I’m saying but I feel like I am going to lose my mind if I don’t get this off my chest. I’ve run over this scenario so many times little buddy but I did not expect this when we woke up this morning. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy you get to finally meet your super cool uncles.” He laughed up at me as I tickled his stomach before I pulled his clean shirt over his head. “And ya know Luke is still just as handsome as I remember.”

I quietly made my way down the hallway to see if I could overhear the boys talking. I was curious as to what they thought the explanation was going to be. I could hear mumbling but nothing concrete. I took a deep breath as I made my way down the stairs and into the kitchen. I pulled the high chair up to the table and put the baby in it with some cut up bananas to eat. I sat down next to him and turned to the boys.

There was an awkward silence as they all stared at me waiting for an explanation. I took a second to take this all in, not believing that they were all sitting in my kitchen.

“Well boys...this is my nephew Wesley.” I ruffled my hand through his hair. “My sister gave birth to him about a year ago and then she just up and left six months ago. He had no one else to raise him so I had to come back for him. I’m the only family he has.”

All four of the boys looked from Wes back to me. I could see the surprise on their faces, Ashtons’ jaw was even hanging open. Luke was the one who spoke first.

“You never told us about your sister.”

A small frown formed on my face, “We were never close. Heather is a few years older than me and was never around when I was younger. She always fought with my mom and when she turned 16 she left home. She didn’t even come back for my mom's funeral. I never really forgave her for that, but when she reached out to me about a year ago telling me she had just given birth I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. Mostly because I missed having a family and I had always wanted to be an auntie.”

“Weren’t we family enough?” Luke interrupted me.

I glanced from him to the rest of the boys and saw the hurt etched across their faces, making my regret my choice of words.

“I didn’t mean it like that, you guys were the family I always wished for when I was younger. And even though she abandoned me just like our dad abandoned us, she was still my sister. I was so excited when I found out I was an aunt as well, Heather and I were talking again and how could I not want to be in this guy's life? I mean just look at him.” I smiled as I looked over at Wes who was still enjoying his bananas.

“Where is your sister now?” Cal asked.

I sighed, “I don’t know. Six months after she gave birth she left, just like our dad did to us and I just, I just couldn’t let him fall into the system. I’m all he has. I never wanted to leave you,” my eyes met Luke’s, “...guys or the tour, let alone without telling anyone but I knew if you guys knew about Wes you would try and convince me to bring him on the road, and I would’ve stayed because that’s all I wanted to do. But it’s not about me anymore, I have to do what is best for Wesley and he deserves to have a normal childhood. Well as normal as I can give him seeing as I’m not his mother. I’m sorry for how I left, but I’m not sorry that I left.”

It was silent when I stopped talking, I looked around the table to see all the boys processing what I had told them. I knew it was a shock finding me here raising a baby that wasn’t mine but I was glad that I finally told them the reason behind me leaving.

Wes started fussing now that he finished his snack, I turned to pick him up but Michael was already jumping out of his seat.

“Let his cool Uncles play with him Y/N,” he picked Wes up out of his highchair, tickling his stomach and making him giggle. Michael laughed too as he carried him into the living room. Calum and Ashton stood up to follow him.

“I’m gonna be his favorite ya know,” Cal winked at me as they left.

“We’re just glad you’re okay Y/N, anything we can do to help we will. For now the three of us will keep him busy while you two take some necessary time to talk.” Ashton gave a small smile to me and Luke who were left sitting at the table.

I turned to Luke who was sitting with his head in his hands. I placed my hand on his forearm causing him to look up at me. “Let’s go outside okay?”

He nodded his head, a slight smile on his lips as he took my outstretched hand and followed me as I led him out to the small patio off the kitchen. He made sure to close the door tight knowing the boys would eavesdrop if possible. I pulled him down on the small couch next to me. I had so many things I wanted to say to him but I owed him enough to start the conversation. His hand remained in mine as we sat in silence, I lightly traced the tattoos on his wrists. He hummed slightly causing me to look up and see him smiling at me.

“I miss that feeling, your fingers tracing patterns all over me. It’s like you leave a trail of fire every time you touch me.” I felt my face flush, I looked back down and began drawing circles on the back of his hands. “I’ve missed you so fucking much Y/N, I thought you left because of something I did. I know we always said we would keep it casual but fuck I haven’t been the same since you left.”

“Fuck Luke I didn’t know you felt that way. You did nothing wrong. I just couldn’t bear to say goodbye to you in person. I felt the same way about you when I left, I didn’t want to keep being casual I wanted to be yours-”

Luke pressed his lips to mine, cutting me off mid sentence. I melted into him like no time had passed. I forgot how it felt to kiss him, it was a drug I couldn’t get enough of. I moved my hands to the back of his neck and pulled him closer to me. His hands went to my waist and the next thing I knew I was sitting on his lap. I pulled back and rested my forehead against his.

“I missed you Y/N, so fucking much.”

“I missed you too Luke, a lot. But you need to know we can’t just go back to how things were. I need to put Wes first and you have the band.”

“But you just said you wanted to be mine,” he looked at me with a mixture of hope and sadness in his eyes. This was exactly why I couldn’t say goodbye in person.

“Key word being wanted. My whole life is different now Luke, I’m not the same person that I was six months ago.”

“So what are we supposed to do?”

I climbed off Luke and reached out my hand, “We go hang out with Wes so he can get to know his Uncle Luke. And then you go back on tour, I stay here and raise Wes and you visit every once in a while with the boys. It's not ideal but at least we’ll still see each other every so often. I’m sorry Luke, but it’s just how it has to be.”

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